m 


LIBRARY 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 

GIF"T   OF 

Mrs.  SARAH  P.  WALS  WORTH. 


Received  October, 
ccessions  No  .      Class  No. 


LECTURES 


ON 


SCRIPTURE  FACTS 


BY   THE    REV. 


WILLIAM  BKNGO  COLLYER,  D,D. 


• Monumentum  sere  perennius, 

Regalique  situ  Pyramidum  altius; 
Quod  noa  imber  edax,  non  Aquilo  impotens 
Possit  diruere,  aut  innumerabilis 
Annorum  series^  et  fuga  temporum 


UHJVBR.SITT 


HOR, 


BOSTON: 
PRINTED  AND  SOLD  BY  SAMUEL  T.  ARMSTRONG, 

No.  50,  CORNHILL, 
1813 


TO  THE 
RIGHT  HONOURABLE 

THOMAS  LORD  ERSKINE, 

LORD  HIGH  CHANCELLOR. 

MY  LORD, 

IF  flattery  be  essential  to  a  Dedication,  I  shall 
never  write  one:  but  in  the  present  instance  I  have  the 
satisfaction  of  believing  that  an  attempt  at  adulation 
would  be  as  disgusting  to  your  Lordship,  as  I  feel  it 
would  be  unworthy  the  dignity  of  the  subject  of  this 
volume,  and  degrading  to  me  as  a  minister  of  the  sanc- 
tuary. It  would  be  easy  to  tell  your  Lordship  that 
I  admire  your  talents,  and  that  the  world  admires  them 
too:  this  would  not  be  adulation;  but  it  would  be  a 
tribute  unconnected  with  the  cause  of  Christianity,  and 
I  shall  therefore  wave  it  altogether.  Permit  me,  then, 
to  remind  your  Lordship,  that  you  descend  from 
an  ancient  and  noble  House,  which  piety  has  dis- 
tinguished as  well  as  rank;  and  that  in  various 
branches  of  your  family,  religion  has  shed  a  lustre 
more  dazzling  and  more  glorious  than  the  radiance  of 
nobility.  Providence  has  placed  your  Lordship  high 
in  the  sphere  of  society;  and  it  is  in  your  power  to  do 
much  to  serve  the  cause  of  revealed  truth.  With  the 
confidence  inspired  by  your  public  and  admirable  de- 
fence of  Christianity;  and  with  the  affection  kindled 


by  the  distinguished  honour  I  have  enjoyed  in  the 
friendship  of  an  illustrious  Relative;  I  presented,  in  an 
early  stage  of  this  work,  an  outline  of  it  to  your  Lord- 
ship, and  received  from  you  a  note,  authorizing  me  to 
assume  the  sanction  of  your  name  in  the  eyes  of  the 
public,  and  expressing,  in  your  own  energetic  language, 
your  persuasion  of  the  infinite  value  of  ''Revelation, 
without  whose  hopes  and  consolations,  all  human  dis- 
tinctions are  nothing."  Under  these  auspices  the 
work  was  carried  on,  and  is  now  brought  to  a  conclu- 
sion: and  I  have  the  honor  to  present  to  your  candor, 
with  my  most  grateful  acknowledgments,  the  offspring 
of  your  own  indulgent  patronage.  It  is  my  sincere 
and  earnest  desire,  that  the  power  of  that  Religion,  the 
evidences  of  which  your  judgment  approves,  may  be 
the  consolation  of  your  heart;  that  its  influence  may 
shed  a  divine  light  upon  the  elevated  orbit  in  which 
you  move;  and  that  its  unfading  honors  may  be 
your  future  recompense,  when  the  distinctions  of  rank 
shall  indeed  be  lost,  and  when  the  only  nobility  allow- 
ed will  consist  in  an  alliance  with  HIM,  who  in  the 
days  of  his  pilgrimage  upon  the  earth,  had  not  where 
to  lay  his  head. 

I  have  the  honor  to  remain, 

\\ith  high  consideration, 

MY  LORD, 
Your  Lordship's  much  obliged 

and  most  obedient  servant, 
WILLIAM  BENGO  COLLYER. 

BLACKHEATH  HIM,,  7-V,  r,,i807. 


PREFACE. 

a 

IT  would  be  an  unprecedented  act,  to  send 'into  the 
world,  without  a  preface,  a  work  of  the  magnitude  of 
this  volume;  and  1  am  glad  to  avail  myself  of  the  per- 
mission and  of  the  opportunity  which  custom  not 
merely  allows,  but  prescribes,  to  say  something  respect- 
ing the  succeeding  Lectures,  before  they  are  dismissed 
to  the  candor  of  the  public,  which  could  not  be  said 
in  the  course  of  their  delivery. 

The  history  of  the  publication  is  simply  as  follows. 
It  was  suggested  to  me  about  five  years  'since,  in  a 
cursory  conversation,  that  it  would  be  a  desirable 
thing  to  produce  a  confirmation  of  the  facts  recorded 
in  the  sacred  writings,  from  contemporary  historians, 
so  far  as  these  could  be  obtained;  and  where  the  re- 
moteness of  scriptural  narrations  stretched  beyond  the 
chronology  of  heathen  compositions,  to  adduce  such 
fragments  of  antiquity  as  time  has  spared  to  us,  so  far 
as  they  bear  any  relation  to  events  transpiring  at  the 
earliest  periods.  It  was  justly  observed,  that  while 
many  and  successful  efforts  have  been  made,  and  are 
daily  making,  to  elucidate  and  defend  the  doctrines 
and  the  precepts  of  Christianity,  the  facts  recorded  in 
the  Bible  have  not  been  placed  in  the  same  advanta- 
geous point  of  view.  Some  have  perhaps  been  deter- 
red by  the  toil  necessary  to  collect  such  testimonies,  to 
select  from  the  mass  evidences  which  are  more  prom- 
inent than  others,  and  to  discriminate  such  portions  of 
heathen  records  as  mingle  truth  with  iable,— to  dctcc: 


t> 

and  expose  the  one,  and  to  produce  and  enforce 
the  other.  It  is  also  probable  that  not  a  few  have  de- 
clined to  adventure  upon  this  plan,  because  it  is  so  un- 
like the  usual  and  popular  modes  of  pulpit  discussion. 
Thus  while  the  citadel  of  revealed  religion  has  been 
ably  an^zealousiy  defended,  the  out-works  have  been 
abandoned,  or  at  least  overlooked;  and  the  posts 
where  some  veterans  of  old  times  fought,  have,  since 
their  removal  by  death,  remained  unfilled.  Upon  re- 
volving this  conversation  in  my  mind,  I  felt  that  the 
remark  was  important,  and  I  began  seriously  to  think 
of  undertaking  the  proposed  discussionjust  so  far  as  it 
might  be  useful  to  my  own  congregation,  and  would 
not  interfere  with  the  other  arrangements  of  my  min- 
isterial labors.  My  first  object  was  to  discover  by 
whom  the  ground  had  been  trodden  before  me.  I 
well  recollected  that  Grotius  had  expressly  set  apart  a 
portion  of  his  treatise  on  the  Truth  of  the  Christian 
Religion,  to  the  consideration  of  Foreign  Testimonies: 
and  in  that  useful  little  volume  will  be  found  many 
of  the  authorities  produced  in  the  following  pages. 
But  Grotius  has  written  in  Latin,  and  is  not,  therefore, 
accessible  to  an  English  reader.  He  lias  been  trans- 
lated; but  the  plan  proposed  forms  a  very  small  part 
of  his  production;  and  the  whole  work  can  only  be 
considered  as  an  epitome  of  the  Evidences  of  Chris- 
tianity, where  tiie  principal  arguments  in  its  favor  are 
enumerated  and  stated,  but  never  dilated,  and  seldom 
more  than  barely  named.  Various  have  been  the 
productions  which  tend  to  this  point,  under  the  sanc- 
tion of  such  illustrious  names  as  lYideaux,  Lardner, 
Briant,  Stillin^nVet,  Pearson,  Doddridge,  and  others. 
But  these  ail  enter  only  into  a  part  of  my  scheme 
.  elueiJ.'itc  a  particular  portion  of  the  sacred  writ- 


ings,  or  advert  in  general  terms  to  the  stability  of  the 
whole.  Above  all  it  appeared  to  me  that  there  was 
yet  wanting  a  work,  which  might  interweave  foreign 
testimonies  to  the  truth  of  Scripture  history,  with  the 
discussion  of  the  history  itself;  which  might  admit  gen- 
eral and  important  remarks  with  a  selected  subject; 
and  which  might  relieve  the  barrenness  and  languor 
of  mere  discussion,  and  of  a  series  of  extracts  from 
heathen  writers;  by  assuming  the  shape  and  the  ardor 
of  pulpit  and  popular  addresses.  Such  was  the  design 
of  the  Lectures  now  submitted  to  the  public,  and  it 
would  ill  become  me  to  conjecture  how  far  I  have 
succeeded  in  filling  up  the  outline.  The  plan  was 
sketched  for  the  use  of  my  own  congregation;  and 
delivered  in  my  own  pulpit.  It  was  afterwards  desir- 
ed by  some,  who  perhaps  thought  too  favorably  of 
the  execution,  that  it  should  be  brought  into  a  larger 
circle;  and  the  Lectures  were  accordingly  delivered 
during  two  winters  in  London.  By  the  importunity 
of  the  same  persons,  the  work  is  now  committed  to  the 
press;  and  time  must  decide  (while  I  anxiously  wait 
its  decision)  whether  I  have  done  well  or  ill  in  yielding 
my  private  opinion  of  the  demerits  of  the  execution, 
to  their  flattering  prepossessions  in  favor  of  its  utility. 
Respecting  the  work  itself,  I  have  little  to  add  to 
the  remarks  which  will  be  found  to  introduce  the  first 
Lecture.  Using  freely  different  writers,  I  have  also 
candidly  acknowledged  my  obligations  to  them,  I 
have  carefully  read  over,  and  have  endeavored  faithful- 
ly to  translate  the  passages  produced  from  antiquity: 
and  separating  them  from  the  body  of  the  work,  I 
have  preserved  their  original  form  for  the  use  of  the 
scholar  who  may  choose  to  hear  them  speak  their  own 
language,  and  yet  might  be  unwilling  to  take  the  trcub- 


B 

le  to  hunt  them  down  through  various  works,  in  notes 
at  the  end  of  each  Lecture.  I  have  subjoined  a  list  of 
the  names  of  the  principal  writers  quoted  in  this  work, 
and  have  placed  over  against  their  names  the  periods 
in  which  they  flourished.  The  list  of  errata  in  the 
work  appears  large,  but  will  be  found  in  few  instan- 
ces to  affect  the  sense:  the  principal  errors  in  it  are  the 
substitution  of  one  Greek  letter  for  another  in  various 
instances.  I  will  venture  to  affirm  that  its  magnitude 
has  not  arisen  from  my  indolence;  and  the  candid 
Reader  will  know  how  to  make  allowance  for  imper- 
fections in  sending  out  such  a  volume  as  the  succeed- 
ing one,  especially  when  the  correction  of  the  press 
rested  with  myself  alone;  and  was  performed  amid 
weekly  and  daily,  public  and  private,  pressing  engage- 
ments.* I  expect  to  derive  much  advantage  from  our 
public  organs  of  criticism;  and  to  candid  criticism,  crit- 
icism such  as  it  ought  always  to  be,  willing  to  allow 
a  merit  as  well  as  a  defect,  to  point  out  a  beauty  as 
well  as  a  fault,  I  shall  always  bow  with  respect,  and 
shall  always,  be  happy  to  avail  myself  of  its  corrections 
and  of  its  advice.  If  I  could  write  a  faultless  volume, 
I  must  possess  more  than  human  powers:  if  I  have  pro- 
duced one  which  shall  be  useful  to  the  cause  of  truth 
and  religion  (and  such  was  my  design,)  I  shall  rejoice 
in  my  general  success;  and,  I  hope,  be  willing  to  listen 
with  gratitude  to  the  candor  which  discovers  to  me 
where  I  have  failed. 

W.  B.  C. 

BLACKHEA.TH.HILL,  March  20,  1807. 

*  It  was  judged  unnecessary  in  this  edition  to  print  the   notes  in  their 

. -iff/form;  but  a  translation  of  all  of  them  and  references  to  the  ori- 

tfinnU  will  be  found,  either  in  the    Lectrres    when;    tho   quotations    are 

made,  or  in  their  order  at  the  end  of  the  volume.     The  Errata  mentioned 

above  have  been  carefully  corrected  in  this  edition  AM.  En. 


CONTENTS. 

LECTURE  1. 

PAGE  7-41. 
INTRODUCTORY — THE    NECESSITY  OF    A  DIVINE  REVELATION. 

Jr  E,  xi,  7—9. —  Apology  for  the  undertaking.  Statement  of  'he  plan  of 
the  Lectures-Mode  of  discussion  proposed,  by  an  appeal  to  the  heathen 
world— Their  ignorance  of  the  nature  and  attributes  of  God— Commence- 
ment of  man's  errors— Source  of  polytheism  --Rise  of  imai;e  worship-. 
Visible  objepts-. -heroes-— benefactors-  deified  —Impurity  of  'heir  -wor- 
ship—Sacrifice of  human  victims-  Contrasted  with  Christianity  -  ';  in  it- 
civil  institutions-  -their  defective  morals--  their  s;.  stems  too  refined  for 
the  multitude-  Universal  adaptation  of  Christinn'ny  --Their  uncenainiy 
respecting-  the  future,  instanced  by  Homer  and  by  Pan!  at  Athens  -  Rev- 
elation has  removed  these  difficulties-  I'.iid  -my  anticipates  annihilation  - 
Objections  against  Kevelation  refuted--  Stare  of  man  without  it  deplora- 
ble—expectation of  Socrates-'-Revelunon  possible,  probable,  found  in  ihe 
Bible  alone. 

LECTURE  II. 

PAGE  42— r 4. 

THE    CREATlON-^-THAT  THE  MOSAIC   ACCOUNT  OF  IT  IS   THE  ON- 
LY RATIONAL  ONE    WHICH  WE    HAVE  RECEIVED. 

GEN.  i.  1. — The  province  of  sense,  of  reason,  and.  of  faith*— Incite* 
ments  to  inquire  into  the  origin  of  all  things  -all  ages  have  attempted 
it---The  several  opinions  of  mankind  reduced  to  Two — First,  that  the 
world  was  produced  by  chance—examined  on  acknowledged  principles 
—  refuted  by  Cicero  -  Appeal  to  the  human  frame,  and  the  conversion  of 
Galen—Hypothesis  of  the  Egyptians--a  disfigured  copy  of  Moses— hypo- 
thesis of  modern  philosophy — Second  opinion,  that  the  world  is  eternal—- 
By whom  held— Refuted  by  the  world's  mutability — by  philosophical 
and  astronomical  laws^—by  history— by  ;he  arts  and  sciences — by  the  or- 
igin of  nations — Objection  raised  from  some  recent  discoveries  in  volca- 
nic irruptions  considered — tradition  of  the  creation  universal — The  being 
of  a  God  inferred,  and  our  connexion  with  him  exhibited — Mosaic  ac- 
count of  the  Creation — Dr.  Geddes — Light  created — Longinus — Work. 
of  the  six  days — Inquiries  answered — respecting  primeval  light — astron- 
my — sxlent  of  the  Creation — ihe  six  days — the  information  of  Moses. 

LECTURE  III. 

PAGE  75—103. 
THE  DELUGE. 

GEN-  vn,  11 — 24.  2  PET.  in,  5 — 7.  Ruins — apostasy  of  man — pro- 
gress of  vice — antediluvian  longevit) — Union  between  the  sons  of  God 
and  the  daughters  of  men — Giants — State  of  the  world  at  the  time  of  the 
Deluge — Plan  of  the  Lecture — The  fact  established — By  the  general 
con-sent  of  all  nations — Testimonies  of  Abydenus— Berosus,  Lucian — re* 

2 


10  CONTENTS. 

mark  of  Grotius — By  the  existence  of  marine  productions  on  land — Hy- 
pothesis of  volcanic  irruptions  examined— objections  of  Button  and  others 
opposed— Hypotheses  "of  Burnet,  IVhiston,'  M.  de  la  Pryme,  and  St. 
Pierre  stated—Effected  by  Divine  interposition— Objections,  respecting 
the  ark,  America,  ir.fants,  and  the  rainbow,  answered — Improvement — 
appeal  to  the  last  judgment. 


LECTURE  IV. 

PAGE  104—131. 

THE  DESTRUCTION  OF  BABEL,  THE  CONFUSION  OF  LANGUAGE, 
THE  DISPERSION  OF  THE  PEOPLE,  AND  THE  ORIGIN  OF  NA- 
TIONS. 

GEN. xi,  1 — 9— OBADIAH,  3  &  4. —  Noah's  mingled  emotions,  of  pity, 
of  gratitude,  and  of  faith — The  fear  of  man  impressed  upon  brutes,  and 
the  law  for  murder — Noah's  failing — his  death— genealogy  of  his  des- 
cendants— his  predictions — Nimrod — the'  original  tongue — Situation  of 
Shinar — Building  of  Babel — its  design  and  form — Imagery  of  the  Bible 
— Confusion  of  language,  what? — Dispersion  of  the  people,  how  effected 
— Origin  of  nations — supposed — uncertain — Ancient  testimonies — Fable 
of  the  giants — one  of  the  Sybils — Abydenus — Inquiries — \\hether  the  at- 
tempt was  criminal? — whether  man  would  have  separated  without  a 
change  of  language? — whether  language  would  have  changed  without  a. 
miracle: — Improvement — Our  errors  spring  from  the  pride  of  our  hearts 
— appeal  to  Nebuchadnezzar  and  to  Belshazzar — Prosperity  often  ex- 
rebellion — There  can  be  no  security  when  God  is  our  enemy  . 


LECTURE  V. 

PAGE  131--163. 

THE    DESTRUCTION    OF    SODOM    AND    GOMORHAH. 

GE.V.  xix.  15—26.    2   PET.  ii,  6. — Domestic  scenes  of  Genesis-- 
f  rastcd  with  profane  writers-. -the  patriarchal  tents  welcomed — Abraham. 
introduced — Idolatry  of  his  country — triumphs  of  faith — titles  of  Abra- 
ham— his  infirmity  in  Egypt — his  memorials  of  gratitude — liis  separation 
from  Lot — the  battle  of  Siddim,  and  Lot  rescued — Mrlchisedt  c — Inter- 
view with  Jehovah — Religious  worship   to  be  guarded — Domestic  con- 
tenlion---Hagar's  Might — prediction  respecting   Ishmael — Circumcision, 
and  Abraham's  name  changed — Three   angels    visit    him  --Go<l   i< 
his  designs  against  Sodom,  and  Abraham  pleads  for  5l«-Two  angels  visit 
Lot — Danger  threatens  the  city  in  the  morning — Lot  hasteiu 
to  the  mountain— •objects—plead!    for   Zoar-  -obtains    his    re-. 

•iclion  of  Sodom  sudden-.-how  eflected---tliu  Dead  Sea — Lot's  \\ile 
— Testimonies  of  Tacitus,  Philo,    Pliny,    Diodorus    Sicultis,    Strai 
Solinus,  to  this  fact — Modern  writers — Evidences  remaining  on  th- 
—  U(  presentations  of  the  Bible    concerning   its   appearance    in   different 
a^es — correspondent   fratun-s  remain — tes'  iniony  of  Joscphus  ---Changes 
-,ed  to  be  ctierU-d  1  y  time,  ami  their  immediate  cav  sub-« 

ject  improved--. Judgments  delayed  will  }etbe  executed  —  Tl. 


CONTENTS.  11 

LECTURE  VI. 

PAGE  164—191. 

THE    HISTORY    OF    JOSEPH. 

GEN.  xlix,  22—26. — ACTS  vii,  9-  16.— Intervening-  history  slightly 
touched— Sacrifice  of  Isaac — Death  of  Sarah-Subsequent  events  enumer- 
ated—Joseph's history  commences  with  his  mother's  death— and  at  an 
interesting-  age-— Jacob's  partiality,  and  its  effects  upon  his  sons— Jo- 
seph's dreams— His  brethren  remove  from  home-  -Joseph  visits  them — 
progress  of  sin  in  their  bosoms,  and  they  resolve  to  slay  him---Reu- 
ben's  interference — Joseph  assumed  nothing-  inconsequence  of  his  father's 
partiality-- He  is  sold,  and  his  coat  dyed  in  blood — Jacob's  anxiety  and 
despair — Joseph  in  Eg\pt,  and  in  temptation — Joseph  in  prison,  and  his 
acquaintance  with  Pharaoh's  chief  butler  and  baker — The  chief  butler's 
ingratitude — Pharaoh's  dreams — Joseph's  elevation — Justin's  remarka- 
ble testimony — Joseph's  brethren  visit  Egypt,  and  know  him  not — Simeon 
bound — They  return  dismayed — Benjamin  brought  into  Egypt — on  their 
second  return  Benjamin  is  arrested — Judah  pleads  for  his  brother — Jo- 
seph discovers  himself — Retrospection — They  tell  their  father  of  his 
prosperity — Jacob  and  Joseph  meet — Their  after-feelings  supposed — Ja- 
cob introduced  to  Pharaoh— Israel  dies — Joseph's  mourning — He  returns 
to  fulfil  his  duties  in  Egypt — -and  dies  also — Concluding-  Remarks  on 
Genesis— It  relates  facts  in  which  we  are  concerned,  and  which  revela- 
tion must  necessarily  contain — Moses  is  the  author  of  it — The  connex- 
ion between  it,  and  the  succeeding  books,  is  inseparable. — The  historian 
writes  like  a  man  convinced  of  the  truth  of  that  which  he  advances — 
The  difference  between  the  style  of  Genesis,  and  thai  of  his  other  writ- 
ing's, noticed  and  accounted  for. 


LECTURE  VII, 

PAGE  192—213. 

A      SCRIPTURAL     REPRESENTATION    OF     THE    NATURE    AND    DES- 
TINATION   OF    MAN. 

GEN.  n,  7.  JOB  xxxn,  8. — -Introduction — Vegetable  world — Ani- 
mal world — Man — his  natural  dig-nit} — \Vhat  is  spirit? — Its  operations 
traced — Understanding-  — Passions — Memory — Imagination — Dreams — 
Its  separate  state — 'Hie  Soul — sleeping-  scheme  examined — How  repre- 
sented in  the  Scriptures — capable  erf  separate  joys  or  suffering's — Source 
of  human  dignity — Life  secretly  communicated  by  God — Intelligence 
distributed  variously  by  the  same  hand — Madness — Spiritual  knowledge 
the  gift  of  God — The  future  existence  of  the  spirit  flows  from  him — -Re- 
flections— How  high  is  the  destination  of  the  spirit! — Its  powers  should 
be  devoted  to  the  Deit\ — How  vast  is  its  loss!— How  diligently  should 
it  be  cultivated — Concluding1  remarks — A  skeptic  is  an  enemy  to  him- 
self and  to  mankind-—  Humanity  is  concerned  in  the  progress  of  Chris. 


12  CONTENTS. 

LECTURE  VIII. 

PAGE  214  —  241. 
THE    SLAVERY    AND    DELIVERANCE     OF    ISRAEL    IN    EGYPT- 

GEN.  xv,  13,  14.  ACTS  vn,  35,  36  -  The  Bible  recalls  past  events-- 
Man always  man—  his  information  confined  to  the  pas'  and  the  present--- 
he  knows  no'hingof  the  future—  Commence  ment  of  Exodus-  -Subject 
proposed,  and  its  arrangement  sta'ed-.-Changjs  effec'ed  in  a  few  years 
—  How  much  often  depends  upon  an  individual---Ravages  of  time  im- 
pressively pourtrayed  by  the  inspired  writer  -  Multiplication  of  Israel--- 
Their  bondage--  Children  slain  Birth  of  Moses  and  his  exposure--  He 
is  rescued  by  Pharaoh's  daughter  —  her  blindness  to  the  future  Educa- 
tion of  Moses---Difference  between  man  and  man  in  talents,  in  litera- 
ture, in  rank  of  life,  and  in  piety--  Silence  of  Moses  respecting  the  first 
40  years  of  his  life--  He  slays  the  Egyptian—and  fiies-  -He  marries  Zip- 
po<*ah  —  He  approaches  the  burning  bush---his  commiss.on  opens—he 
meets  the  Magicians  before  Pharaoh-  General  statement  of  his  miracles 
i'h  of  the  first  born-  -the  Israelites  depart  -—Critic  ism  on  the  word 
"To  BORROW''-—  The\  pass  the  Red  Sea-—  -Foreign  testimonies  to  this 
fact  —  There  was  such  a  person  as  Moses,  proved  by  Justin  ami  Longi- 
nus  —  He  brought  Israel  from  Egypt,  proved  by  Justin,  Manetlio,  Ttici- 
tus,  Pliny,  Trogus  Pompeius—  The  Jews  could  not  have  asserted  these 
things,  unless  they  had  been  true,  without  detection-.  -Testimony  of 
Numcnius—the  Jews  themselves  could  not  be  imposed  upon—These 
facts  are  kept  in  remembrance  by  their  rites  —  Ancient  custom  of  the 
Egyptians  on  the  dav  before  the  Passover  —  Testimony  from  Diodorus 
An  appeal  to  Skepticism. 

LECTURE     IX. 

E  212—  2CG. 


i'HE  JOURNEY  OF  ISRAEL  IN  THE  WILDERNESS:  THEIR  ES- 
TABLISHMKKT  IN  CANAAN;  AND  THE  CIRCUMSTANCES 
ATTENDING  THKSB  EVENTS. 

JOSHUA,  xxiv.  2-    13.  -  lie;  son  is  to  the  mind  what    the  eye    is  to   the 

Tod\,  and  Keve.lation    s  to  reason  what  Sight  is  tothee\e-  -the  one  is  the 

organ--  the-  other  the  medium  —  'Jevelat  i<,..  •,  to  elucidate  Nature 

-and  to  drv«.-!o;>e  fiitu.-i'.\  —  the  Si.hj.jrt   stated  in  its   ex- 

cording  to  the  Scripture-  h;stor\  --Cliai  actrr  of   the- 

-They  murmur  for  water  —  Manna  and  quails  sent  —  a  fresh  sup- 

•f   water—.  i  distinguished—  They    .siih.luc    Amalek  —  '1  ho 

ijiven  —  Contrast  be',  -uul  Calvary--  J  h«j  Golden  Calf—  the 

•  vjl  report  ol  Can.  .an  —  .\  general  eitni'ii-ration  of  su- 

,    tribute  to  liis   memoi-y      J(.-hua 
liationol  Israel  s::,ted  --Tlu-y  puss  Jordan-  -  The 

lhoW(  r  of  stones, 
in  and  mo     '  til  —  Foreign      testimonies  —  Positive    e\  i- 

ro  the  mo«t  .  Jtory  kt  large  --from  Ari«- 

tobulus,  thf    Orpine  ver»  .    !  Siculus,    I'lmy, 

Tacit'  ippas,  and  the  1'ocis    in  grncral---Tt.st  imony  •>( 


CONTENTS.  13 

Publicity  of  the  Law— adherence  of  tlie  Je\vs  to  it-  its  perfection—im- 
possibility of  impo.sition--.So  also  of  the  miracles  of  the  journey — Cus- 
toms of  the  Jews,  perpetuated  to  tins  hour,  refer  to  these  events — Rea- 
son for  the  reservation  of  the  Canaanites — aspect  oi  the  whole  to  the 
Messiah — Objections— that  the  conduct  of  the  Israelites  was  immoral— 
'hut  h  was  cruel— that  the  instruments  us.ed  to  punish  these  nations 
were  improper— refuted-  •ImproremeBt— the  harmony  and  success  of  the 
designs  of  God  contrasted  wiih  human  fluctuations-  he  presides  in  the. 
councils  of  princes — It  is  pleasant  to  see  the  gradual  devclopement  of 
his  plans — it  will  be  delightful  in  heaven  to  review  the  whole. 

LECTURE  X. 

PJCJ2262— 292. 

THE  GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  JEWS INCLUDING  THE  THEOCRA- 
CY AND  MONARCHY,  TO  THE  BUILDING  OF  SOLOMON*S  TEM- 
PLE! WITH  A  CONFIRMATION  OF  SOME  SUBORDINATE  FACTS. 

1  SAM. viii,  6-lC>  &  19,  20.  Ac  rs  vu.  44  -48.  HEB.  xi.  32—  54 
Revelation  to  he  examined  with  reverence,  with  caution,  and  with  caw- 
dor — Retrospection — the  subject  stated — An  inquiry  in»o  the  rise  of 
government — The  parental  and  the  patriarcha' — Nimrocl — Origin  of  mon- 
archy— Selection  of  Israel — Theocracy— -derivation  of  the  term — Three- 
fold relation  of  God  to  the  Hebrews — Distinction  of  the  terms,  statutes, 
commandments,  judgments,  and  testimonies — Scripture  epithets  expres- 
sive of  God's  choice  of  the  Jews — Appointment  of  their  rulers — ^amuel 
and  his  sons — Expiration  of  the  Theocracy;  and  in  what  sense? — Monar- 
chy of  the  Jews — The  change  of  government  displeasing  to  God — and 
why? — Saul  anointed — his  alienation  from  God — David  brought  to  court 
— his  friendship  with  Jonathan — Saul  and  his  sons  slain? — David's  lamen- 
tation—His succession,  his  character,  and  his  trials — His  design  to  build 
a  temple — The  monarchy  traced  to  its  close — absorbed  in  the  spiritual 
reign  of  Jesus — Solomon'' s  temple — Evidences  respecting  it — God's  pres- 
ence unconfined — Subordinate  Scripture  facts  confirmed--  Gideon's  ac- 
tions by  Sanrchoniathon— Jepthai's  vow,  by  the  story  of  Iphigenia  --Samp- 
son's foxes,  in  Ovid's  Roman  feasts  --Delilah's  treachery,  in  the  story  of 
the  daughter  of  Nisus---The  strength  and  valor  of  Sampson,  in  the  la- 
bors of  Hercules— The  vic'ory  of  David  over  the  Syrians,  by  Nichelaus 
Damascenus--The  taking  of  Jerusalem,  and  the  destruction  of  Senacha- 
rib's  army,  by  Herodotus  -  The  Translation  of  Elijah,  in  tlie  story  of 
Phaeton— Jojnah's  preservation  by  the  whale,  is  related  of  Hercules  by 
Lycophron,  and  by  yEneus  Gazeus—  The  dearth  in  the  days  of  Ahab,  by. 
Menander— and  \he  tire  from  Heaven  v,hich  consumed  Elijah's  sac- 
rifice, by  Cypria/»,  and  by  Julian- -Conclusion-. -Christ  compared  with 
Solomon, 

«          LECTURE   XI. 

PAGE  2,3—319- 
THE    CAPTIVITIES    OF    ISRAEL    AND    OF    JUDAH. 

2  KINGS  xvn.  1  -  6.  2  CHRO*.  xxxvi.  14 — 21. — The  history  of  en.- 
pires  is  the  record  of  the  human  heart — The  Bible  makes  us  acquainted 
with  MEN-  --Cautions  arising  from  Solomon's  fall  --Succession  of  Keho- 
boam,  and  division  of  the  kingdom-  -The  captivity  of  Israel,  when?  and 
l>y  \vhomN--Sumaritaris. -Cause  of  the  captivity-. -MtnandcT's  testimoM -- 


14  CONTENTS. 

Man's  abuses  of  p«v/er---contrasted  with  the  Benevolence  of  the  Deity-— 
i  Ti,(  ten  tribes  -  Inferences-  The  Messiah  was  the  great  object 
of  the  Old  Testament  dispensation-  -The  very  existence  of  the  Jews  de- 
penned  upon  their  connexion  with  the  Suvior-.-The  captivity  of  Judah, 
\vher.?  and  by  whom?  Intermediate  events-  -The  reading-  of  the  roll  — 
Nebuchadnezzar's  first  vision  explained  by  Daniel*— Total  ruin  of  Jerusa- 
lem-. -Description  of  Babylon  -Its  walls—The  bridge  and  banks  of  the 
river  -Canals— -Palace,  hanging  gardens,  and  temple-  -Nebuchadnezzar's 
pride  and  fall;  related  in  his  decree ---Obscurely  hinted  in  Abydcnus.-- 
Confirmed  by  Herodotus — Asserted  by  Josephus — Gathered  from  Ptole- 
my's Canon--- His  reign  and  works  mentioned  by  Berosus,  Megasllxenes, 
Diocles,  and  Philoatratus-  Evil  Merodach  succeeds  h-m— Then  Nt-rii^. 
lasser— Then  Helshazz'ar — Babylon  taken  by  Cyrus--  The  Jews  restored 
-  -Improvement— The  facility  with  which  God  can  punish  nations-— Ele- 
vation sometimes  bestowed  upon  the  worst  of  characters-  -The  power  of 
the  .wicked  limited— War  a  dreadful  cursc---Let  us  seek  a  better  world! 

LECTURE  XII. 

PAGE  320—347. 

THE     LIFE,    DEATH,    RESURRECTION,    AND    ASCENSION    OF    JESUS 
CHRIST,    PROVED    AS    MATTERS    OF    FACT. 

LUKE  n,  1-7.  1  Cou.  xv,  3--S.  2  Pet.  i,  16. -Sublimity  ftllied  to 
terror--  God  alike  great  in  every  point  of  view  --The  former  dispensa- 
tion has  yielded  to  one  more  simple  and  more  spiritual— The  obscurity  of 
antiquity  left  bchind---The  subject  stated  —  It  relates  to  facts  transpiring 
in  the  zenith  of  the  glory  of  Rome— -Expectations  of  the  world  at  this 
period—  Extract  from  Virgil's  Pollio  --compared  with  Isaiah's  predictions 
-.-Ti-anquillitv  of  all  nutions--The  decree  of  Augustus --Conjectures 

iting-  this  tax,  and  its  extent—  Inns  of  the  East--- Poverty  of  the  Sa- 
vin'r's  birt!)--lt  is  announced  to  the  Shepherds. ..Journey  of  the  Magi — 
who  they  were---tbe  star  which  conducted  them--  their  country— "Testi- 
monies of  Pliny  and  Chalcidius  to  this  circumstance  --Cruelty  of  Herod 

lence  that  Christ  had  been  in  Egypt—Testimony  of  Josephus  res- 
pec'.ing  him--  Julian,  Porphyry,  and  Celsus  allow  his  works  —  His  death 
—  •Acts  of  Pilate—asserted  by  Justin  Marur  and  Tertullian  -  Manner  of 
it  mentioned  by  Tacitus  and  by  Lucian — Miracles  attending  his  death— 
Darkness  supernatural  -- •  Testimony  of  Phlegon--  of  Suidas--und  the  re- 
mark of  l)i.)f.ysius  the  Areopa^ite--  -Burial  of  the  Savior  .-Evidences  of 
the  rcs'in-ectiou-.-PK  a  of  the  guards  answered  in  seven  different  \\ 

,  ^ii;;:---Tes'imony  rtf  l:iiny  to  the  early  worship  of  Christ*— General 
evidences  of  Quadn.'us-  -Ttrrtullian,  and  Amoblos--. Improvement— Jlev« 
guiding  Siar-.-in  its  nature  -  in  it:;  sou:x'j--in  i^s 
object-'-and  in  its  issue. 

LECTI  in;  MIL       » 

-£348—   , 

THE    CHARACTER      OF     THE      WHITKHS     O  AND    NE\V 

VI  S. 

1  Jon  s   I.  1—  .        H  !'.  at'd 

,!ated — 'J  I  of   tie 

Old  ai 

' 


CONTENTS.  15 

of  all  nations— They  wore  for  the  most  part  eye-witnesses  of  the  facts 
which  they  recorded— What  they  did  not  see  they  derived  from  the  most 
r.ertain  evidences — Their  integrity — Their  impartiality — Their  candor — 
I'lifii-  wisdom — Their  holiness — Their  lives  contrasted  with  those  of 
their  opponents — Their  motives  disinterested — proved  by  their  actions — 
and  by  their  preaching — Their  testimony  respecting-  themselves — They 
believed  what  they  taught — proved  by  their  sufferings — Tlu-y  were 
guided  by  that  which  t'hey  preached—proved  by  the  correspondence 
of  their  lives — They  could  not  be  deceived  in  the  facts  which  they  re- 
late— They  would  not  deceive — proved  from  their  acknowledged  charac- 
ters—and from  their  criminality,  supposing  it  possible — Their  views 
stated,  and  their  prejudices — Their  appeals  considered — The  concession 
of  .their  enemies — Improvement — The  allowances  to  be  made  in  reading 
the  scriptures — and  the  spirit  in  which  they  should  be  consulted. 

LECTURE  XIV. 


PAGE  377— 39r. 

THE  UNSEARCHABLE  GOD:  OR,  AN  ATTEMPT  TO  PROVE  AN 
ANALOGY  BETWEEN  THE  RELIGION  OF  NATURE  AND  THAT  OF 
THE  BIBLE,  BY  SHEWING  THAT  THE  SAME  OBSCURITY  WHICH 
OVERSHADOWS  REVELATION,  EQUALLY  OVERSPREADS  NATURE- 
AND  PROVIDENCE. 

JOB  xxxvi.  14  — Man*,  a  needy  dependent  creature — in  his  infancy — 
his  childhood — his  youth— his  manhood — his  death — Kevelution  meets 
him  on  the  terms  of  his  nature — Magnitude,  beauty,  and  wisdom,  com- 
parative terms — Limitation  or  hum  an  powers — Created  minds  swallow- 
ed up  in  the  Deity — The  subject  slated — God  unsearchable  in  the  works 
of  creation— Ignorance  of  man  in  early  ages — Progress  of  philosophy — 
Our  present  ignorance  of  the  planetary  system — Attempts  to  reach  the 
poles -frustrated — Our  ignorance  of  the  minutiae  of  nature,  and  of  the 
structure  of  the  human  frame — God  unsearchable  in  providence — Its  mys- 
teries relative  to  empires — The  assistance  of  Revelation — Its  perplexi- 
ties relative  to  individuals — Partial  illumination  from  the  Bible — Our  ig- 
norance of  the  invisible  worlds — These  were  once  unknown  altogether— 
Their  existence  is  now  clearly  proved  in  the  Scriptures — Their  nature  iu 
general  is  ascertained — But  few  particulars  respecting  them  have  - 
pired — God  unsearchable  in  the  word  of  Revelation — Its  general  truth? 
exhibited — Its  promises— Concession  respecting  its  difficulties:  bin  in 
this  very  point  consists  its  arfalogy  with  nature  and  providence — These 
all  are  but  partial  views  of  the  Deity — The  thunder  of  his  power  is 
ceivable — Illustrations — Conclusion. 


Writers   quoted,   or  refej^red  /o,  in  the  coitrtte  of  tht 
Lectures,  with  their  respective  dates. 


ORPHEUS 

Hesiod 

Homer 

Sanchoniathan 

Xenophanes 

Herodotus}^™ 

Plato 

Aristotle 

Diodes 

Abydenus 

Megasthenes 

Menander 

Strato    Lampsacenus 

Lycophrou 

Manelho 

Aristobulus 

Diodorus  Siculus 

Cicero 

Trogus  Pompeius 

Catullus 

Virgil 

Nicholnus  Demascenus 

Suidas 

Ovid 

Strabo 

Apion 

Philo — about 

.Lucanus 

Seneca 

Pliny  the  elder 

Solinus 

Joscphus — died 

Pliny  the   younger 

Plutarch 

Juvenal 

/Elian 

Justin 

Justin  Martyr 

Luciun 

Origcn 

Clemens  Alexandrinus 

Philostratus 

Ocellus   Lucanus 

Cyprian 

• 


B.  C. 

A.D. 

1000 

Chalcidius  —  in    the    third   cer 

i- 

.     900 

tury 

850 

Arnobios 

300 

.     760 

Porphyry 

304 

620 

Eusebius 

342 

484 

Julian 

363 

413 

P     .,.        7  °f  Alexandria 

386 

.     348 

3  of  Jerusalem 

444 

.     322 

Epiphanius  —  died 

403 

321 

yEneus    Gazeus 

490 

300 

Alexander  Trallianus 

520 

298 

293 
.     288 
276 

Hermippas   ~\ 

Numenius      | 
Eupolcmus  J 

261 

124 

MODERNS. 

.       44 

43 

Pearson 

1600 

.     41 

Grotius 

1645 

40 

Usher 

1655 

-       18 

Milton 

1674 

A.  D. 

Addison 

1719 

6 

Rollin 

1741 

.     11 

Saurin 

17 

Burnet 

.     25 

Whist  on 

35 

M.  de  la  Prvmr 

.     50 

Taylor 

.     65 

Prideaux 

65 

Hrvant 

.     80 

Shaw 

81 

Pocoke 

93 

Volney 

103 

IJi.ssolius 

119 

Allix 

128 

DmVlridge 

.     140 

Home 

148 

Poole 

163 

Bruce                   ^ 

.     180 

Watson 

200 

Geddcs 

.      220 

Burn 

241 

h>t.  Pierre 

250 

Ancient  Universal  History 

258 

Humph  rys's    Annotations 

273 

Encyclopedia  liri  tannicu 

276 

LECTURES 

ON 

SCRIPTURE  FACTS. 
LECTURE  I. 

INTRODUCTORY— THE  NECESSITY  OF  A  DIVINE 
REVELATION. 

JOB  XI,  7 — 9. 

Canst  thou  by  searching  find  out  God?  Canst  thoufind 
out  the  Almighty  unto  perfection?  It  is  high  as 
heaven,  what  canst  thou  do?  deeper  than  hell,  what 
canst  thou  know?  The  measure  thereof  is  longer 
than  the  earth,  and  broader  than  the  sea! 

JL  o  enlarge  the  sphere  of  knowledge,  and  to  increase 
the  sum  of  happiness  in  the  present  world,  is  an  object 
worthy  the  attention  of  every  friend  of  human  nature; 
and  the  effort,  ev7en  should  it  fail,  deserves  the  appro- 
bation and  the  applause,  of  wise  and  good  men:  but 
to  provide  consolation  against  the  severest  moments  of 
trial,  to  disperse  the  cloud  which  hangs  over  "the  valley 
of  the  shadow  of  death,"  and  to  conduct  the  immortal 
spirit  safe  to  the  throne  of  the  invisible  God,  is  a  pur- 
pose far  more  sublime,  and  an  exertion  of  still  greater 
utility.  To  shed  lustre  over  a  few  years,  or  to 
live  in  remembrance  a  century  or  two,  and  then  to 
be  forgotten,  is  comparatively  of  small  importance:  yet 
for  this  the  scholar  labors,  and  the  hero  endures  hard- 
ship— this  is  the  summit  of  human  ambition,  and  the 
boundary  of  its  most  sanguine  expectations.  To  shine 
on  the  roll  of  science,  to  pluck  honors  which  fade  like 
3 


18 

tlie  flower  of  the  field,  while  you  gather  them,  or  to 
sparkle  among  the  favorites  of  fortune,  is  of  little  avail  to 
man,  who  must  soon  resign  to  the  merciless  grasp  of 
death,  even  the  sceptre  of  the  world,  were  it  committed 
to  his  possession.  Yet  these  things  are  sought  amid  re- 
peated disappointments;  and  the  golden  bait  is  received 
with  increased  avidity,  although  barbed  with  anguish 
and  sorrow.  But  who  regards  the  silent  finger  of  reli- 
gion pointing  to  an  inheritance  above  the  stars,  prom- 
ising splendors  which  shall  never  expire,  and  waiting 
to  crown  the  man,  who  obeys  her  gracious  admoni- 
tions, with  honor,  glory,  and  immortality? 

When  I  remember  the  occasion  on  which  I  stand 
before  this  large  assembly,  and  the  awful  engagement 
which,  at  the  solicitation  of  many  among  you,  I  have 
undertaken — I  shrink  from  my  subject,  and  enter  up- 
on the  discussion  ol  it  with  "fear  and  trembling."  To 
throw  down  the  gauntlet,  and  to  enter  the  list  with  win- 
ning and  attractive  fashion,  is  a  bold  and  daring  effort. 
Jt  will  be  admitted  that  this  is  a  day  of  prevailing  infidel- 
ity; and  surely  it  will  also  be  allowed,  that  it  is  the  duty 
of  every  man,  who  sustains  the  sacred  office  of  a  Chris- 
tian minister,  to  "contend  earnestly  for  the  faith  once 
iV.ivered  to  the  saints,"  and  to  "give  a  reason  for  the 
hope  that  is  in  him."  On  this  principle  the  Lecturer 
presumes  to  offer  his  mite  to  the  Lord  of  the  Treasury 
towards  the  support  of  this  great  and  common  cause. 
It  may  be  asked,  why  hoary  ;ti^  should  not  rather  en- 
ter upon  this  arduous  work?  Would  to  God  that  more 
efforts  NVLMC  inaiJr  on  tin-  part  of  able  and  faithful 
miu;  ruble  for  years  and  for  litera- 

ture, against  the  common  enemy!  Tho<e,  however 
who  imagine  that  uge  should  exclusively  wield  the 
>rcP' against  $keptk*ftnv,  will  dowelltora- 


19 

member,  that  the  opposite  cause  is  not  supported  alto- 
gether, or  tor  the  most  part,  by  years,  experience,  and 
learning.  No,  these  are  far  from  being  exclusively  our 
opponents:  The  young,  the  inexperienced,  and  the  illit- 
erate, have  united  with  the  sage  and  the  philosopher, 
against  the  claims  and  obligations  of  revelation.  While. 
even  school-boys  daringly  renounce  asystem  which  they 
have  not  examined,  which  they  cannot,  alas!  appreciate, 
and  embrace  one  which  they  do  not  understand,  may 
it  not  be  permitted  to  a  young  man  to  say  something 
in  favor  of  a  volume,  which,  if  lie  should  not  succeed 
in  defending  it,  he  can  truly  say  he  admires  and  loves? 
Let  the  wise  and  the  learned  rouse  to  action,  and  pro- 
duce their  "strong  reasons"—!  shall  be  among  the  first  to 
sit  at  their  feet:  but  upon  persons  of  my  own  age,  I  feel 
that  I  have  a  peculiar  claim;  I  trust  that  they  will  hear 
me  with  candor  and  respect;  and  for  them  principal- 
ly I  have  suffered  this  engagement  to  be  announced  to 
the  public.  Let  youth  be  opposed  to  youth,  age  to 
age,  talent  to  talent.  Let  the  enemies  of  revelation 
know,  that  we  can  ascend  to  their  eminence,  or  sink 
to  their  level.  Let  it  be  seen,  that  some  are  growing 
up  to  support  the  Redeemers  kingdom,  while  others 
finish  their  course,  and  are  gathered  to  their  fathers. 

It  may  be  said,  that  so  many  have  undertaken  this 
cause,  and  acquitted  themselves  so  ably,that  neither  any 
thing  new  can  be  advanced,  nor  is  it  indeed  necessary. 
It  is  readily  granted,  that  I  am  to  tread  in  a  beaten 
track;  but  while  skepticism  continues  to  press  upon  us 
old  objections  in  new  forms,  we  must  follow  their  ex- 
ample in  refuting  those  objections:  and  it  is  as  necessary 
as  it  ever  was  to  oppose  the  standard  of  truth  to  that  of 
error,  so  long  as  our  adversaries  determine  to  keep  the 
field,  and  to  maintain  the  combat.  So  far  from  flattering 


20 

myself  that  I  am  striking  out  a  new  path,  I  shall  profes- 
sedly set  before  you^  from  time  to  time,  such  arguments* 
and  testimonies  as  I  am  able  to  collect  from  others;  and 
shall  freely  use  every  author  that  may  be  servicable  to 
the  cause  which  I  attempt  to  defend.  And  if  I  shall  be 
able  to  set  an  old  argument  in  a  new  light,  or  even  to 
bring  one  to  remembrance  only,  I  shall  be  satisfied  to 
be  regarded  a  compiler  of  evidences,  rather  than  a  cre- 
ator of  them;  I  shall  be  amply  rewarded  for  my  labor, 
nor  will  you  regret  your  attendance.  When  however, 
I  recollect,  that  we  all  gather  our  stores  of  knowledge 
from  the  writings  or  conversation  of  others;  that  the 
experience  and  observation  of  the  wisest  of  men  could 
furnish  him  with  comparatively  little  intelligence,  were 
it  never  permitted  to  advance  beyond  its  own  imme- 
diate sphere;  and  when  in  addition  to  these  considera- 
tions, I  remember  that  every  man  has  his  own  train  of 
thinking,  and  a  mode  of  expression  peculiar  to  himself, 
I  flatter  myself  that  all  which  shall  be  said,  will  not 
be  h  ' '  wed,  if  all  is  not  exclusively  my  own;  and  that 
som  viy  be  advanced  in  the  course  of  these  lec- 

tures, which,  if  it  should  not  surprise  by  its  novelty, 
may  be  candidly  received  for  its  justness,  and  attract 
by  its  simplicity  and  sinceri 

It  will  be  proper,  in  a  lew  vv  s  to  state  the  im- 
mediate purpose  of  these  lectu:  the  object  of 
the  plan  which  I  am  about  to  -  it  is  simply  to 
meet  skepticism  on  its  own  ground  in  relation  to  first 
principles.  Is  it  ass-rtcd  that  the  facts  recorded  in 
this  volume  have  no  evidence?  We  shall  endeavor  to 
prove  that  they  are  furnished  with  all  th-  evidence 
which  events  so  remote  can  have,  and  which  reason 
ought  to  require  of  time.  Is  it  said  that  Christianity 
is  a  modern  invention?  On  the  contrary,  if  our  pur- 


21 

pose  be  established,  it  will  appear  as  old  as  the  creation. 
Is  the  authority  of  the  scriptures  questioned?  We  vv 
produce  other  testimonies.  Is  its  history  condemn*  i 
as  absurd?  We  shall  attempt  to  shew  that  it  is  perfect- 
ly rational;  and  that  all  evidences  weighed,  and  all 
circumstances  considered,  it  is  clear  that  events  could 
not  have  taken  place  otherwise  than  as  they  are  re- 
corded. Is  it  objected,  that  it  claims  support  from  mi- 
racles? It  will  follow  from  our  representations,  if  they 
are  made  with  the  strength  and  clearness  which  we  de- 
sire, that  such  a  book,  so  written,  and  so  supported, 
could  it  be  proved  to  be  false,  would  be  of  itself  a 
greater  miracle  than  any  which  appears  upon  its  pag- 
es. The  facts  which  it  records,  are  the  immediate  sub- 
jects of  examination  in  the  present  course  of  lectures; 
and  these  will  be  considered  in  connexion  with  their 
history,  and  confirmed  by  foreign  and  ancient  testi- 
mony, under  the  following  arrangement. 

1.  The  present  lecture,  which  is  merely  introducto- 
ry, will  be  an  attempt  to  prove  the  necessity  of  a  divine 
Revelation. 

2.  The  Creation:  that  the  Mosaic  account  of  it  is 
the  only  rational  one  which  we  have  received: 

3.  The  Deluge: 

4.  The  destruction  of  Babel,  the  confusion  of  lan- 
guage, the  dispersion  of  the  people,  and  the  origin  oi 
nations: 

5.  The  destruction  of  Sodom  and  Gomorrha: 

6.  The  history  of  Joseph;  which  will   bring  us  to 
the  close  of  Genesis: 

7.  Intermediate  Lecture:  a  scriptural  representation 
of  the  nature  and  destination  of  man: 

8.  The  slavery  and  deliverance  of  Israel  in  Egypt: 

9.  The  journey  of  the  Israelites  in  the  wilderness: 


21 

their  establishment  in  Canaan;  and  the  circumstances 
attending  these  events: 

10.  The  government  of  the  Jews;  including  the  the- 
ocracy and  monarchy,  to  the  building  of  Solomon's 
Temple;  with  a  confirmation  of  some  subordinate  facts 
recorded  in  the  scriptures. 

11.  The  captivities  of  Israel  and  Judah: 

12.  The  life,  death,  resurrection,  and  ascension  of 
Jesus  Christ,  proved  as  matters  of  fact: 

13.  The  character  of  the  writers  of  the  Old  and 
New  Testament: 

14.  Concluding  Lecture — the   unsearchable  God; 
or,  an  attempt  to  prove  an  analogy  between  the  reli- 
gion of  nature  and  that  of  the  Bible,  by  shewing  that 
the  same  obscurity  which  overshadows  revelation,  e- 
qually  overspreads  nature  and  providence. 

The  present  subject  of  discussion  is, 

THE  NECESSITY  OF  A  DIVINE    REVELATION. 

A  fair  trial  of  the  powers  of  human  reason  was 
made  during  that  long  and  dreary  period  in  which  the 
scriptures  were  confined  within  tlie  walls  of  Jerusalem, 
and  the  world  at  large  was  left  in  the  unmolested  ex- 
ercise of  all  the  means  furnished  by  nature  and  philo- 
sophy, to  conduct  the  mind  to  God.  To  that  period 
we  shall  therefore  recur;  and  shall  endeavor  to  ascer- 
tain what  were  the  discoveries  made  by  the  most 
enlightened  among  the  Heathens,  respecting  the  na- 
ture of  Deity,  the  relation  which  he  bears  to  us,  the 
obligations  under  which  \ve,  are  laid  to  him,  the  con- 
sequences of  death,  the  secrets  of  futurity,  and  all  those 
things  which  an;  so  interesting  to  man,  as  an  immor- 
tal being.  It  is  fair  to  judge  of  the  powers  of  nature  and 
of  reason,  from  the  eik"jb  produced  by  their  agency, 


23 

when  they  were  left  altogether  to  themselves.  It  is 
unfair  in  the  advocates  of  skeptiscism  to  avail  them- 
selves of  the  superior  intelligence  afforded  by  revela- 
tion, and  to  usi3  this  knowledge  against  the  volume 
from  which  they  derived  it.  It  is  not  possible  to  de- 
termine with  any  degree  of  precision,  what  discove- 
ries the  unassisted  light  of  reason  is  capable  of  mak- 
ing, while  it  is  aided,  and  indeed  absorbed,  by  the  su- 
perior illumination  of  revealed  religion;  it  must  there- 
fore be  admitted,  that  a  fair  and  accurate  investigation 
of  its  powers,  can  only  be  made  by  looking  at  it  as  it 
really  appeared  when  it  was  seen  alone.  We  ask 
with  confidence,  whether  at  that  period  of  the  world, 
when  science  unveiled  all  her  splendors,  and  irradia- 
ted the  discovered  globe  from  pole  to  pole;  when  phi- 
losophy sat  upon  her  throne  enjoying  the  zenith  of 
her  power;  and  when  reason  had  attained  the  meridi- 
an of  her  glory;  a  system  more  honorable  to  God, 
more  adapted  to  the  wants  and  the  felicity  of  man, 
and  more  productive  of  moral  excellence,  than  that 
which  is  suggested  in  the  Scriptures,  was  produced? 
We  defy  skepticism  to  answer  in  the  affirmative.  Did 
the  mild  philosophy  of  Socrates  and  of  Plato;  did  the 
elegant  mind  of  Cicero;  did  all  the  heathen  philoso- 
phers in  their  combined  exertions,  ever  produce  such 
affecting  elucidations  of  divine  goodness,  such  consol- 
ing demonstrations  of  divine  mercy,  such  delightful 
discoveries  of  life  and  immortality?  They  never  did. 
And  \ve  shall  attempt  to  prove  to  you  the  necessity  of 
a  divine  revelation  from  the  state  of  the  world,  at  that 
very  period  when  these  eminent  persons  flourished. 
We  shall  not  cause  to  pass  before  you,  rude  and  bar- 
barous nations;  but  we  shall  bring  to  the  test  scientific 
Greece,  learned  and  polite  Athens,  polished,  proud, 
imperial  Rome.  We  solicit  your  attention  to 


24 

I.  THEIR  SUPERSTITIONS  AND  RITES  OF  WORSHIP: 

II.  THEIR  CIVIL  INSTITUTIONS   AND   THEIR  DEFEC- 
TIVE MORALS: 

III.  THEIR  UNCERTAIN  CONJECTURES  IN  RELATION 

TO    FUTURITY. 

I.  THEIR  SUPERSTITIONS  AND   RITES   OF  WORSHIP. 

And  in  contemplating  the  state  of  religion  during 
the  boasted  reign  of  reason  and  philosophy,  we  can- 
not but  be  struck  with  their  ignorance  of 

1.  THE  NATURE  AND  THE  ATTRIBUTES  OF  GoD. 

When  man  was  left  to  wander  over  this  wide  globe 
without  one  cheering  ray  to  guide  his  feet,  the  light  of 
nature  excepted,  the  progression  of  erroneous  conclu- 
sions founded  upon  one  false  principle  was  rapid  and 
extensive.  He  beheld  this  fair  world  covered  with  ev- 
ery thing  necessary  to  his  existence,  and  to  his  enjoy- 
ments. Spring  enchanted  all  his  senses:  a  summer's 
sun  poured  hie  glories  around  him:  autumn  furnished 
his  table;  and  experience  taught  him  to  secure 
her  bounty  in  his  rude  habitation,  while  the  blasts  of 
winter  howled  round  his  dwelling,  and  spread  desola- 
tion over  the  plains.  He  perceived  that  these  seasons 
regularly  returned,  and  that  they  departed  in  their  or- 
der, lie  concluded  that  they  had  their  appointed  pe- 
riods; and  this  suggested  to  him  the  conviction  of  a 
supreme,  over-ruling  Intelligence.  In  every  nation, 
and  in  every  age,  the  conception  of  the  being  of  a  God, 
uted  itself  to  the  human  mind;  and  an  Atheist 
,i  monster  even  in  the  days  of  heathenism.  He 
had  no  clear  conception,  however,  of  spirit  distinct 
from  matter;  and  therefore  conjectured  that  this  God 
might  be  Visible.  HF.RK  COMMENOKH  ins  ERRORS.  He 
looked  around  in  search  of  this  great  first  cause.  H< 
Id  the  sun  as  he  performed  his  apparent  journey 


rid  the  globe.  When  his  beams  were  tempered 
with  gentleness,  it  was  spring:  when  they  poured  their 
most  fervid  radiance  upon  the  earth,  it  was  summer: 
their  continued  vivification  produced  the  maturity  of 
autumn;  and  their  total  absence,  or  partial  influence, 
the  storms  and  the  gloom  of  winter.  But,  when  he 
re-appeared,  the  snow  dissolved,  rivers  flowed  afresh, 
and  the  face  of  nature  was  renewed.  Of  all  the  ob- 
jects around  him.  which  could  be  so  likely  to  be  the 
God  of  nature?  or,  in  the  eye  of  philosophy  itself,  what 
presented  so  perfect  a  resemblance  of  the  Deity?  The 
Persian  raised  him  an  altar,  and  bowed  with  fervor 
before  his  shrine. 

But  the  sun  was  not  the  only  benefactor  of  man. 
Night  spread  her  mantle  over  him.  and  he  sought  re- 
pose. The  moon  lighted  him  from  his  labor,  and  dif- 
fused a  silvery,  partial  illumination  upon  the  face  of 
creation,  which  before  her  rising  was  enveloped  in  per- 
fect obscurity.  In  her  appearance  she  resembled  the 
ruler  of  the  day;  and  the  conclusion  was  irresistible,, 
thai  she  ought  to  divide  with  him  the  honors  of  wor- 
ship. Thus  while  the  sun  scorched  the  head  of  the 
adoring  Persian:  the  worshippers  of  the  moon  rent  the 
air  with  shouting,  "Great  is  Diana  of  the  Ephesians." 
Still  but  two  of  the  hosts  of  heaven  were  considered, 
The  smaller  appearances  of  light,  kindled  in  the  skies, 
during  the  absence  of  the  sun,  were  deemed  of  the 
same  nature,  and  supposed  to  answer  the  same  purpo- 
ses, with  the  larger;  and  it  was  at  length  inferred  that 
they  also  should  be  remembered  as  objects  of  adora- 
tion; although  possibly  subordinatdy  to  the  others,  as 
they  were  inferior  in  glory.  HENCE  SPRANG  POLY- 

THEJSM. 

The  arts  and  sciences  in  the  mean  time  advanced: 

4 


and  while  they  were  erecting  tor  themselves  splendid 
habitations,  they  thought  that  their  deities  ought  to  de- 
rive some  honor  from  the  enlargement  of  useful  knowl- 
edge.  Temples  arose,  and  altars  were  elevated.  There 
the  worshipper  adored  his  supposed  deity  with  greater 
convenience.      A  resemblance  of  his  God  occurred  to 
his  mind,  as  desirable.      The  idea  was  eagerly  adopt- 
ed.    On  some  altars  the  fire  flamed,  as  the  purest  em- 
blem of  the  sun.     Others  copied  the  figure  of  the  wax- 
ing moon,  and  described  a  crescent.  Others  adored  the 
resemblance  of  a  star.*     But  the  Egyptian  ever  ready 
in  symbols,  considered  the  qualities  of  his  deities;  and 
whether  they  were  energy  or  fervor  as  in  the  sun,  or 
gentleness  and  softness  as  in  the  moon,  he  represented 
them  by  the  unbending  strength  of  manhood,   or  the 
mild,  dignified  chastity  of  the  woman.       When  the 
mind  had  once  seized  the  counterpart  of  its  imaginary 
god  in  nature,  there  quickly  sprang  up  an  Apollo,  and 
a  Hercules,and  a  Diana.  HERE  AROSE  IMAGE- WORSHIP. 
Nor  did  human  infatuation  end  here.    Every  object 
around  them  was  deified.   The  heavens,  the  air,  the  sea, 
the  very  earth,  were  adored  under  the  names  of  Ju- 
piter, Juno,  Neptune,  and  Cybele.   The  catalogue  was 
swelled  to  infinity!  Their  fellow  men  whom  they  either 
feared   or  loved,  were  exalted  to   heavenly  dominion. 
A  conqueror  deluged  the  world  in  blood.     Desolation 
attended  his  footsteps.        The  wreath  with  which  he 
bound  his  forehead  was  nurtured  in  the  field  of  slaugh- 
ter, and  washed  in  the  tears  of  widows  and  orphans, 
Sighs  filled  the  floatings  of  his  banner;    and    he  drove 
his  chariot  with  fro/en  insensibility  over  the  slain    in 
the  midst  of  the  battle.     He  was  a  curse  to  the  earth, 
and  execrated  by  the  nations.        He   enlarged  indeed 

•  Acts  vli,  4>. 


27 

the  limits  of  his  empire;  but  every  inch  of  ground  add- 
ed to  his  own  dominions,  was  an  encroachment  upon 
those  of  his  neighbors,  and  was  purchased  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  heart's  blood  of  his  contemporaries.     Af- 
ter his  death,  dazzled  by  his  exploits,   his  infatuated 
subjects   paid   him  divine   honors,   and  placed    him 
among  their  worthless  deities.     One  man   taught  his 
countrymen  to  cast  seed  into  the  ground,  after  it   had 
been  broken  up,  and  thus  to   cause  "the  little  one  to 
become  a  thousand:"  and  he  was  worshipped  as  pre- 
siding over  the  fruits  of  the  earth.       Another  availed 
himself  of  the  cloudless  atmosphere  of  Babylon,  and 
ascending  a  lofty  tower,  made  early  observations  on 
the  heavenly  bodies:  he  was  adored  as  the  king   of 
heaven.     A  third  by  dint  of  attention,  foretold  the  re- 
turn   of  periodical  winds;  and  he  w?as  worshipped  as 
having  charge  of  the  storms,  under  the  name  of  ^Eolus. 
A  fourth  crossed  the  ocean,  and  in  a  frail  bark  com- 
mitted himself  to  the  mercy  of  the  winds  and  waves. 
Both  the  hero  and  his  ship  were   instantly  translated 
to  the  skies;  and  at  this  hour  a  constellation  in  the  hea- 
vens bears  their  name,  and  keeps  the  daring  enter- 
prise in  remembrance.     While  a  fifth  discovering  me- 
dicinal virtues  in  plants,  and  applying  them  with  suc- 
cess in  certain  cases,  became  the  god  of  medicine,  was 
said  to  unpeople  the  grave,  and  was  adored  under  the 
name  of  Esculapius.*      To  pursue  the  subject,  would 
be  useless  and  wearisome;  every  part  of  the  heavens, 
the  earth,  the  air,  the  sea,  and  the  supposed  infernal 
world,  wras  crowded  with  deities;  and  every  succeed- 
ing tyrant,  as  the  first  act  of  his  reign,  gave  his  merci- 
less predecessor  a  place  among  the  gods. 

While  they  all  professedly  admitted  that  there  was 

*  See  note  1,  at  the  end  of  the  Volume. 


one  supreme  being  who  presided  over  their  multiplied 
divinities,  and  held  them  all  in  subjection,  they  per- 
petually disagreed  on  the  point  to  whom  this  honor 
belonged;  and  the  supreme  deity  of  one  country,  held 
only  a  subordinate  place  in  another. 

Respecting  the  attributes  of  the  objects  of  their  wor- 
ship, they  discovered  unequalled  ignorance  and  impi- 
ety. We  are  compelled  to  draw  a  veil  over  the  prin- 
ciples and  operations  of  these  pretended  deities;  for  the 
tale  is  too  gross  to  recite  in  the  ear  of  modesty;  and 
the  picture  could  not  meet  the  eye,  without  calling  up 
a  blush  of  shame,  sorrow,  and  indignation,  on  the 
cheek  of  innocence.  Who  must  not  shudder  with 
horror  when  he  reads,  that  thfese  sons  of  reason  and 
philosophy,  ascribed  to  the  holy  and  invisible  God,  un- 
'iness,  and  every  detestable  vice?*  We  will  pass  on 
from  the  nature  and  number  of  their  deities,  to  con- 
sider, 

2.  TiiEiB  WORSHIP  OF  GOD.  Their  religious  adora- 
tion, so  called,  was  such  as  would  have  been  better 
suited  to  the  house  of  an  harlot,  than  to  the  temple  of 
God.  Lasciviousness  was  sanctioned,  encouraged,  and 
practised,  under  the  holy  and  venerable  name  of  reli- 
gion. The  more  infamous  the  rites,  the  more  accept- 
able were  they  supposed  to  be  to  the  Deity.  The 
apostle  Paul  has  delineated  in  strong  colors,  the  affect- 
ing depravity  of  that  dreary  and  comfortless  period. 

"B-rause  when  they  knew  God.  they  glorified  him 

':  Ir.'t  became  vain 

rt  was  dark  - 

•  he  wise  they  became 

,  ,ind  <•;  ihr  uncorruptible  God, 


M'riS 


•  The  Y  '• 

MCiibed  in  I  ,  their  nr^rwnr  4eity 


29 

into  an  image  made  like  to  corruptible  man,  and  to 
birds,  and  four-footed  beasts,  and  creeping  things. 
Wherefore  God  also  gave  them  up  to  uncleanne: 
Who  changed  the  truth  of  God  into  a  lie,  and  wor- 
shipped and  served  the  creature  more  than  the  Creator, 
who  is  blessed  for  ever,  amen.  For  this  cause  God 
gave  them  up  unto  vile  affections." — 

The  whole  of  this  awful  and  well-founded  accusa- 
tion, which  contains  in  it  things  not  to  be  so  much  as 
named  among  us,  is  given  in  the  first  chapter  of  the 
Epistle  to  the  Romans,  from  the  twenty-first  verse  to 
the  end.  And  he  who  has  read  the  Satires  of  Juvenal, 
or  is  at  all  acquainted  with  the  history  of  those  times, 
cannot  dispute  for  a  moment  the  fidelity  of  the  apos- 
tle's testimony. 

It  is  the  first  principle  of  our  nature  to  believe  the 
existence  of  a  God;  and  the  first  dictate  of  oor  reason, 
that,  admitting  this  existence,  we  are  bound  to  serve 
him,  to  obey  him,  and  to  sacrifice  whatever  we  hold 
most  dear  to  his  demand.  This  is  the  dictate  of 
reason,  assisted  or  unassisted  by  the  light  of  revelation. 
The  Bible  has  directed  this  conviction  to  a  proper  ob- 
ject; and  has  specified  the  sacrifice  which  we  should 
make,  and  the  offering  which  duty  requires  us  to  pre- 
sent, when  it  says,  "I  beseech  you,  brethren,  by  the 
mercies  of  God,  that  ye  present  your  bodies  a  living 
sacrifice,  holy,  acceptable  unto  God,  which  is  your 
reasonable  service."  When  "darkness  covered  the 
earth,  and  gross  darkness  the  people,"  the  self- same 
principles  were  held;  but  alas!  they  were  not  directed 
to  a  right  object!  It  is  affecting  to  see  the  wretched 
and  ignorant  sons  of  men  obeying  the  dictates  of  rea- 
son on  this  point,  and,  convinced  that  sacrifices  ought 
to  be  presented  to  the  Deity,  concluding  that  he  was 


30 

"altogether  such  an  one  as  themselves,"  and  forming  a 
false  estimate  of  his  character  and  perfections,  offering 
ail  that  was  most  precious  to  them,  to  the  extinction 
of  parental  feeling,  and  in  contempt  of  the  voice  of 
humanity.  See  yonder  Druid,  with  fierceness  glaring 
in  his  eyes,  and  the  consecrated  branch  in  his  hand, 
polluting  thy  soil,  O  Britain!  with  the  ashes  of  hundreds 
of  victims  consumed  in  an  enormous  image!  But  soft 
— we  promised  to  produce  examples  only  from  polish- 
ed nations,  and  from  empires  at  the  zenith  of  their  glo- 
ry. And  we  shall  not  have  read  far  in  the  pages  which 
record  the  brightest  splendors  of  antiquity,  before  we 
find  the  "pitiful  wroman,"  offering  her  first  born  for  her 
"transgression,  the  fruit  of  the  body  for  the  sin  of  the 
soul;"  the  mother  "forgetting  her  sucking  child,"  and 
"ceasing  to  have  compassion  upon  the  son  of  her 
womb."  My  heart  fails  me,  and  the  blood  curdles  in 
my  veins  with  horror,  when  I  recollect  that  it  was  a 
custom  common  among  the  Carthaginians  to  sacrifice 
children  to  Saturn.  The  statue  of  that  idol  was  of 
brass,  and  formed  with  extended  arms;  but  so  con- 
structed, as  to  suffer  whatever  was  placed  upon  them, 
to  fall  into  a  fierce  fire;  ilaming  in  a  furnace  at  the  foot 
of  the  image.  The  trembling  parent  approached  with 
a  countenance  of  ease  which  ill  concealed  the  anguish 
of  the  heart,  and  presented  his  child.  The  distracted 
mother  imprinted,  with  a  parched  lip,  a  last  kiss  upon 
the  blooming  cheek  of  her  smiling  infant.  The  fero- 
cious pr'u.^t,  clothed  in  scarlet,  received  the  uncon- 
sciou-  babe  from  the  maternal  embrace;  and  placing 
it  on  the  arms  of  this  infernal  image,  it  fell  into  the 
inc.  At  that  instant  the  drums  wore  beat,  and  the  air 
rang  with  acclamations  from  the  surrounding  multi- 
i  ud<\  to  cover  the  agony  of  the  bereaved  parents,  and 


31 

to  drown  the  shrieks  of  the  consuming  victim!  On 
one  occasion,*  two  hundred  children  of  the  first  fami- 
lies in  Carthage  were  thus  immolated!  and  on  their  an- 
nual sacrifices,  those  who  had  no  children  were  accus- 
tomed to  purchase  those  of  the  poor  for  this  horrible 
purpose,  t 

These  are  thy  boasted  triumphs,  O  reason!  May  God 
graciously  preserve  to  us  the  teachings  of  the  scriptures! 
At  this  mournful  review  of  the  blood-stained  trophies 
of  cruel  and  inexorable  superstition,  surely  every  pa- 
rent must  feel  the  necessity,  and  value  the  blessing  of 
a  divine  Revelation!  Hail  Christianity!  It  was  thine  to 
teach  us  "a  more  excellent  way:"  it  was  thine  to  over- 
throw the  altars  erected  to  an  "unknown  God,"  and 
defiled  with  human  blood:  it  was  thine  to  do  away  the 
impure  rites  which  cannot  be  named  without  a  blush, 
for  the  weakness  and  the  wickedness  of  human  nature: 
it  was  thine  to  roll  the  dark  protentous  cloud  from  the 
understanding:  it  was  thine  to  demand  the  peaceful, 
noble  sacrifice  of  the  body  by  the  crucifixion  of  its  lusts 
and  passions!  And  it  is  a  reasonable  service;  for  it  is 
consonant  with  the  purest  dictates  of  reason:  it  is  not  a 
grievous  service:  it  violates  no  principle  of  nature:  it 
tortures  no  feeling  of  humanity.  It  is  the  only  reason- 
able service  which  man  can  offer,  and  which  is  wor- 
thy the  acceptance  of  Deity:  yet  which,  but  for  the 
light  of  Revelation,  had  never  been  discovered.  Thy 
peace-speaking  voice  requires  no  blood  to  be  shed; 
for  the  "sacrifice  for  sin"  has  already  been  presented 
in  the  death  of  Jesus  Christ:  it  requires  no  mortification 
of  our  feelings  but  such  as  are  depraved,  and  which 
were  introduced  into  the  mind  by  sin;  but  which  are 

*  When  Agalhocles  was  about  to  besiege  Canhag-e. 
f  Plutarch  de  Supcrsthior.e.     See  tUso  note  2,  at  the  end  of  the  volume. 


32 

net  the  genuine  feelings  of  humanity,  because  they 
were  not  implanted  in  the  day  when  God  made  man 
<;in  his  own  image.'7  The  only  slaughter  demanded 
on  thy  altar,  is  that  of  vice  and  immorality,  of  a  bitter, 
unforgiving  spirit,  of  a  proud,  imperious,  untractable 
disposition,  of  a  useless,  ungodly  life! 

But  we  passion  to  another  review  of  the  state  of  the 
heathen  world;  and  argue  the  necessity  of  a  divine  rev- 
elation, from 

II.  THEIR  CIVIL  INSTITUTIONS;  AND  THEIR  DEFECTIVE 

MORALS. 

1.  THEIR  CIVIL  INSTITUTIONS.  Vrice  was  tolerated; 
the  principles  of  humanity  were  violated;  and  parental 
feelings  tortured.  Suicide  was  esteemed  the  strongest 
mark  of  heroism;  and  the  perpetrators  of  it,  who  ought 
to  have  been  branded  with  everlasting  infamy,  were 
celebrated  by  their  historians  and  poets,  as  men  of  supe-1 
rior  minds.  Implacable  hatred  to  enemies  was  deemed 
a  virtue;  and  an  unforgiving  spirit  was  cherished,  and 
esteemed  manly  fortitude.  Hamilcar,  the  father  of 
Hannibal,  caused  his  child,  at  the  age  of  nine  years,  to 
swear,  that  he  would  never  be  reconciled  to  the  Ro- 
mans. The  infamous  traffic  with  human  blood  was 
permitted  in  its  utmost  extent;  and,  alas!  is  continued 
this  day  among  nations  professedly  Christian:  although 
the  mild  and  gentle  precepts  of  the  gospel  plead  aga 
it;  and  religion  and  humanity  unite  their  voices  to 
demand  of  the  oppressor,  "What  hast  thon  (i 
The  voice  of  thy  brother's  blood  crieth  from  UK* 
ground!"  IVriii;:  -ion  wu-'  given  to  the  citizens,  on 
ns,  to  kill  their  slaves.  One  of  the  \vis- 
Uurs  i.f  the  heathen  world,  commanded  that 
all  children  should  I-  ;:<!.  who  appeared  in  any 


33 

respect  maimed  or  defective,  and  thus  was  the  horrible 
practice  of  destroying  infants  who  did  not  seem  likely 
to  be  of  service  to  the  state,  not  merely  openly  tolera- 
ted, but  expressly  instituted.  The  result  of  these  pre- 
vailing opinions  and  pernicious  institutions,  was  as 
might  be  expected, 

2.    A    MOST    DEFECTIVE    SYSTEM    OF    MORALS.       De~ 

pravity  was  the  inevitable  consequence  of  so  barbarous  a 
system.  The  world  was  an  aceldama-a  perpetual  scene 
of  violence  on  some  occasions,  when  it  was  agitated  by 
ambition;  and  on  others,  in  seasons  of  peace,  was  pollu- 
ted by  every  abominable  and  nameless  vice.  Virtue 
was  a  mere  shadow — a  name.  It  was  serviceable  as  a 
subject  of  eulogy  in  the  schools;  but  was  little  reduced 
to  practice;  and  for  the  most  part,  their  very  virtues 
leaned  to  the  side  of  unnatural  severity.  In  the  frag- 
ments of  antiquity,  we  meet  with  some  beautiful 
pieces  of  morality:  but  unfortunately  the  history  of 
those  times  proves,  that  the  deportment  even  of  the 
persons  who  wrote  these  admirable  precepts,  contra- 
dicted all  their  recommendations;  and  that  they  broke, 
one  by  one,  every  rule  which  they  prescribed  to  others. 
We  are  moved  with  pity  in  reviewing  ages  when  men 
thought  and  wrote  so  well;  and  lived  so  immorally. 
So  many  vices  were  called  by  the  name  of  virtue,  that 
it  is  difficult  to  imagine,  what  they  would  call  vice, 
save  cowardice.  Their  most  eminent  and  enlightened 
characters  were  guilty  of  crimes  not  to  be  recited;  and 
the  general  character  of  the  whole  heathen  world 
was,  that  they  were  "given  over  to  a  reprobate  mind, 
to  do  those  things  which  were  not  convenient."  The 
palaces  of  the  Cassars  raised  their  imperial  turrets  to  the 
skies,  crowned  with  matchless  magnificence:  but  with- 
in, they  were  stained  with  every  species  of  impurity.  It 


34 

is  not  possible  to  read  the  account  given  of  these  morf- 
archs  who  held  the  sceptre  of  the  world,  without  pity 
and  indignation.  The  narration  of  Suetonius,  alter- 
nately elevates  and  depresses,  informs  and  pollutes  the 
mind  of  the  reader:  and  if  one  moment  we  follow  the 
warrior  through  his  victories  with  delight,  and  parti- 
cipate his  triumph,  the  next  discovers  him  to  us  in 
his  retirement,  an  object  of  horror  and  disgust,  "com- 
mitting all  manner  of  uncleanness  with  greediness.'" 
The  general  contamination  may  well  be  imagined, 
when  Horace  obscures  his  genius  with  shameless  inde- 
cency, and  the  elegant  pen  of  Virgil  sullied  his  pages 
with  impurity.  I  dare  not  refer  to  my  authority  for 
this  mortifying  statement;  but  it  is  a  subject  which,  alas, 
admits  of  no  dispute.  We  observe  in  general,  respect- 
ing the  heathen  world, 

3.  THAT  THEIR  SYSTEMS  WERE  TOO  REFINED  FOR 
THE  COMMON  PEOPLE.  And  here  Christianity  triumphs. 
Its  morality  is  pure,  simple,  intelligible,  adapted  to  the 
meanest  capacity.  All  other  religions  on  the  face  of 
the  earth  were  formed,  for  the  most  part,  for  the  rich, 
and  for  the  wise.  This  was  a  grand  defect  in  their  sys- 
tem. Their  theology  was  so  complex,  that  the  phi- 
losopher alone  could  comprehend  its  refinements, 
while  the  vulgar  were  abused  with  the  grossest  fables, 
as  a  substitute  for  religion.  Its  mysteries  were  profes- 
sedly held  back  from  the  scrutiny  of  the  crowd.  But 
the  gospel  is  the  consolation  of  the  poor.  It  has  no 
mysteries  which  are  dark  to  a  plain  understanding,  and 
fathomable  by  the  wise:  no  mysteries  but  such  as  are 
necessarily  beyond  the  limitedcomprehension  of  reason; 
therefore  equally  obscure  to  the  peasant  and  to  the 
philosopher.  Of  its  fundamental  principles,  "a  way- 
luring  man"  is  a  competent  judge;  and  they  descend 


So 

to  the  level  of  his  uncultured  intellect.  Other  religions 
required  splendid  sacrifices,  such  as  a  poor  man  could 
not  present;  priestly  demands  were  made,  beyond  his 
ability  of  performance;  and  the  temple  was  barred 
against  him,  because  he  could  not  pay  the  fee  of  en- 
trance. But  the  religion  of  Jesus  addresses  itself  to 
every  description  of  men;  and  hides  the  poor  under  the 
shadow  of  its  wings,  from  the  ills  and  the  injuries  of 
life.  Its  adaptation  to  human  infirmity,  is  universal. 
Other  religions  were  the  religions  of  the  city,  of  the 
empire,  of  the  century:  and  varied  with  the  changes  of 
custom.  But  Christianity  is  equally  suited  to  the  East, 
the  West,  the  North,  or  the  South;  it  is  adapted  to  the 
European,  the  African,  the  Asiatic,  and  the  American: 
all  are  implicated  in  the  charges  it  brings  against  human 
nature,  all  are  drawn  in  the  characters  it  delineates,  and 
all  are  interested  in  the  discoveries  which  it  makes  of 
life  and  immortality.  But  we  forbear — we  are  not 
desirous  to  pronounce  an  eulogium  on  Revelation,  but 
to  prove  its  necessity  from  the  state  of  the  heathen 
world  before  its  introduction;  in  order  to  which,  we 
request  your  attention  further,  to 

III. — THEIR  UNCERTAIN  CONJECTURES  IN  RELATION 

TO   FUTURITY. 

To  the  mind  even  of  the  philosopher,  futurity  was 
like  the  chaos  of  Moses,  fathomless.,  empty,  without 
shape  or  order,  and  "darkness  was  upon  the  face  of 
the  deep."  The  poets  sang  of  Elysian  fields  and  Tar- 
tarean punishments;  but  these  were  regarded  as  the 
flights  of  an  ardent  imagination;  and  the  fictions  un- 
der which  their  theories  were  buried,  wrere  openly  re- 
jected by  the  wisest  among  them.  Who  does  not  pity 
the  genius  of  the  immortal  Homer,  laboring  under 


36 

the  pressure  of  this  mournful  ignorance?  In  vain  he 
stretches  the  wing  of  his  imagination  to  penetrate  the 
secrets  of  futurity — not  an  object  could  be  seen  through 
the  gloom.  In  vain  he  would  carry  the  torch  of  rea- 
son into  the  world  of  spirits — the  shadows  of  death  ex- 
tinguish it.  When  he  draws  the  picture  of  eternity 
with  the  pencil  of  fancy,  he  makes  his  greatest  hero 
prefer  a  miserable  life,  ladened  with  all  the  woes  of 
this  valley  of  tears,  to  the  highest  honors  which  can 
be  bestowed  after  death.*  Some  of  the  most  enlight- 
ened among  them,  agitated  the  question  respecting  the 
immortality  of  the  soul;  yet  their  reasoning  led  them 
no  higher  than  conjecture,  and  they  could  not  attain 
the  firmness  of  persuasion.  Nor  had  it  ever  entered 
into  their  most  sanguine  expectations  respecting  the 
body,  that  HE  who  first  constructed  the  machine, 
and  took  it  in  pieces,  should  again  put  it  together,  and 
frame  it  for  immortality.  This  was  an  idea  so  totally 
novel  to  them,  that  when  Paul  preached  at  the  Areo- 
pagus, before  the  polished  and  enlightened  Athenians, 
" Jesus  and  the  resurrection  of  the  dead,  some  mocked:" 
otHfcrs  said,  "He  seemeth  to  be  a  setter  forth  of  new 
gods;"  while  a  few  concluded  that  they  would  "hear 
him  again  of  this  matter." 

Revelation  has  done  that  for  man,  which  neither 
reason  nor  philosophy  could  effect.  In  the  exercise  of 
the  powers  of  our  mind,  upon  the  scenery  by  which 
we  are  surrounded,  we  rise  to  the  great  parent  of  all; 
and  deduce  some  .conclusions  respecting  his  natim-. 
from  the  operations  of  his  hand:  yet  have  vvr  seen  that 
these  conclusions  were  frequently  erroneous.  The  re- 
ligion of  nature  cannot  go  further  than  to  (c:\c\\  us, 
that  there  is  a  Go?l,  all  powerful,  all-wise,  all  good; 

•  See  note  3,  at  the  end  of  ihe  volume. 


37 

and  this  is  more  than  it  taught  the  heathen  world  per 
fectly.  But  it  leaves  us  ignorant  of  our  relation  to 
him:  it  is  unable  to  unravel  the  more  interesting  parts 
of  his  character;  it  cannot  develope  the  harmony  of 
his  attributes.  A  thousand  inquiries  are  suggested,  to 
which  we  receive  no  answer.  We  are  placed  in  cir- 
cumstances for  which,  on  principles  of  reason,  we  can- 
not account;  and  perceive  the  existence  of  evil,  unable 
to  discover  its  source.  We  labor  under  a  curse,  from 
which,  by  the  light  of  nature,  we  see  no  deliverance; 
and  are  in  possession  of  an  existence,  for  which  we 
perceive  no  adequate  end.  Those  things  which  are  the 
most  interesting,  are  also  the  most  uncertain;  and  that 
which  we  know  naturally,  only  serves  to  kindle  a 
thirst  to  learn  more,  which,  on  the  principles  of  nature 
and  reason  merely,  cannot  be  satiated.  For  what 
has  the  light  of  philosophy  done,  but  rendered  dark- 
ness visible?  It  has  strained  the  powers  of  reason  and 
imagination,  till  they  could  be  stretched  no  further;  yet 
without  bringing  one  hidden  truth  to  light.  it  has 
perplexed  and  bewildered  the  mind  by  contradictory 
hypotheses.  It  has  exhausted  the  charms  of  eloquefice, 
and  enervated  the  force  of  argument,  in  establishing 
favorite  systems  upon  the  ruins  of  those  which  preced- 
ed them,  only  to  be  pulled  down  in  their  turns,  to 
make  way  for  others  equally  absurd,  and  equally  false. 
After  dragging  us  through  mazes  of  intricate  reason, 
ing,  it  leaves  us  precisely  at  the  point  at  which  it  found 
us.  all  uncertainty,  obscurity,  and  suspense.  "The 
world  by  wisdom  know  not  God."  We  appeal  to 
facts — they  are  before  you — and  we  confidently  expect 
your  decision  upon  their  testimony. 

It  is  here  that  Revelation  takes  up  the  process,  and 
disperses  the  mist  of  uncertainty.     It  professes  not  in- 


18 

deed  to  reason  upon  subjects  beyond  the  comprehen- 
sion of  the  human  mind;  but  it  reveals  the  fact  and  re- 
quires our  assent  to  it:  which  we  may  safely  give,  al- 
though we  do  not  comprehend  the  whole  of  that 
which  is  revealed.  Those  parts  which  we  do  compre- 
hend, \ve  conceive  to  be  true  and  wise:  may  we  not 
reasonably  conclude  that  those  which  we  do  not  com- 
plctely  understand  are  equally  so;  and  that  the  defi- 
ciency is  in  our  natural  powers,  and  not  in  the  sub- 
ject investigated?  Those  who  call  upon  you  to  relin- 
quish your  Bibles,  have  not  attempted  to  fathom  the 
depths  of  futurity.  They  rather  wish  you  to  consider 
the  scanty  period  of  ''three-score  years  and  ten,"  the 
boundary  of  the  hopes,  the  joys,  and  the  expectations 
of  man.  They  place  beyond  death — ANNIHILATION! 
The  thought  is  insufferable!  Say,  you  who  have  drop- 
ped the  parting  tear  into  the  grave  of  those  whom  you 
loved, — is  this  a  consoling  system?  Are  the  most  tender 
connexions  dissolved  to  be  renewed  no  more?  IViubt 
I  resign  my  brother,  my  parent,  my  friend,  my  child — 
FOR  EVER?  What  an  awful  import  these  words  bear! 
Standing  upon  the  grave  of  my  family,  must  I  say  to 
its  departed  members, — "Farewell!  ye  who  were  once 
the  partners  of  my  joys  and  sorrows!  I  leaned  upon 
you  for  support;  I  poured  my  tears  into  your  bosom; 
1  received  from  your  hands  the  balm  of  sympathy — 
But  it  is  no  more!  No  more  shall  I  receive  your  kind- 
:  no  more  shall  I  behold  you!  The  cold  embrace 
of  death  claspd  your  mouldering  bodies;  and  the  shad- 
ows of  an  impenetrable  midnight  brood  FOR  i.vr.u  up- 
•ulchrcs!" — No!  We  cannot  relinquish  Chris- 
tianity for  a  system  which  conducts  us  to  this  fearful 
When  skepticism  shall  have  provided  a  substi- 


39 

itute  for  our  present  hopes,, we  will  listen  with  more* 
confidence  to  its  proposals. 

And  yet  the  cry  of  modern  philosophy  is  against  the 
only  pledge  of  immortality  afforded  the  human  race. 
Where  is  the  gratitude  of  such  conduct?  Are  we  not 
indebted  to  it  for  all  the  illumination  which  we  enjoy? 
Did  Paganism  disappear,  till  Christianity  exerted  her 
benign  influence?  Did  not  man  in  a  state  of  nature  de- 
mand and  offer  human  victims?  And  did  not  Revela- 
tion stay  the  effusion  of  blood,  and  abolish  these  infa- 
mous rites?  Is  it  not  friendly  to  science  and  civiliza- 
tion? Is  it  not  inimical  to  whatever  is  injurious  to  the 
interests  of  man?  Where  is  the  wisdom  of  such  an  op- 
position? Before  you  banish  this,  produce  a  better  sys- 
tem: shew  us  "a  more  excellent  way:"  teach  us  mo- 
rality more  sublime!  What  is  its  crime?  Sedition?  Im- 
possible! It  "puts  us  in  mind  to  be  subject  to  princi- 
palities and  powers,  to  obey  magistrates,  to  be  ready 
to  every  good  work."  Want  of  philanthropy?  Surely 
not!  Some  may  bear  its  name  who  do  not  breathe  its 
spirit:  but  their  bigotry  and  illiberality  are  not  charge- 
able upon  Christianity — Christianity,  which  teaches 
"to  speak  evil  of  no  man,  to  be  no  brawlers,  but  gentle, 
shewing  all  meekness  unto  all  men."  It  substitutes 
faith  for  good  works;  audits  professed  teachers  set  up 
opinion  against  morality?  It  is  a  gross  calumny!  It 
blends  these  nominally  jarring  principles:  it  assigns  to 
eacii  its  proper  place:  it  requires  the  influence,  and 
commands  the  agency,  both  of  the  one  and  the  oth- 
er: it  joins  together  those  things  which  men  frequently 
separate;  and  with  equal  consistency  and  plainness, 
traces  the  causes  and  effects  of  salvation:  it  has  pre- 
scribed— "these  things  I  will  thatthou  affirm  constant- 
ly, that  they  which  have  believed  in  God,  he  careful 
to  maintain  good  works." 


40 

Extinguish  the  light  afforded  by  this  despised  vol- 
ume, and  you  are  precisely  in  the  situation  of  the  hea- 
then world.  I  close  the  Bible;  and  there  remains  to 
you  a  hope  without  a  foundation,  assaulted  by  a  thou- 
sand dismal  apprehensions.  The  planets  which  roll 
over  your  head,  declare  matchless  wisdom,  and  incal- 
culable immensity.  They  write  in  the  heavens,  the 
name  of  Deity;  and  the  attributes  of  power,  majesty, 
and  immutability.  But  where  is  the  record  of  pardon? 
It  is  neither  written  by  the  sun  beam;  nor  wafted  on 
the  breeze.  Where  is  the  record  of  immortality?  It 
is  not  inscribed  on  the  face  of  the  heavens;  nor  reveal- 
ed by  the  operations  of  nature.  "The  depth  saith, 
•It  is  not  in  me!'  and  the  sea  saith,  'It  is  not 
in  me'!"  Look  abroad  into  creation.  "Canst 
thou  by  searching  find  out  God?  Canst  thou.  find  out 
the  Almighty  unto  perfection?  It  is  high  as  heaven, 
what  canst  thou  do?  deeper  than  hell,  what  canst  thou 
know?  The  measure  thereof  is  longer  than  the  earth; 
it  is  broader  than  the  sea!" 

From  what  has  been  advanced,  we  conclude,  that 
the  state  of  man,  considered  as  destitute  of  a  revelation 
of  the  mind  and  will  of  God,  is  truly  deplorable.  So 
convinced  was  Socrates  of  this,  that,  from  the  uncer- 
tain decisions  of  reason  on  the  most  important  sub- 
jects, he  not  only  concluded  that  such  a  divine  revela- 
tion was  necessary;  but  expressed  his  persuasion,  that 
such  a  communication  would  be  made.* 

I  ['you  admit  the  existence  of  a  God,  you  -mist 
grant,  that  it  \s  possible  for  him  to  give  such  a  revela- 
tion. When  it  is  so  essential  to  the  happiness  of  man, 
ran  we  believe  that  a  Being  so  infinitely  gracious  as 

'<•  4,  at  the  c-iul  of  ilic  volume. 


41 

the  Deity,  would  suffer  us  to  remain  without  this 
source  of  consolation?  If  a  revelation  be  necessary,  it 
is  probable,  and  if  it  be  probable,  where  are  we  to  ex- 
pect it?  In  the  mythology  of  the  heathens?  In  the  Ko- 
ran? In  the  "Age  of  reason?"  or  in  the  Bible?  Has  there 
ever  been  a  book  produced,  that  has  any  pretensions 
to  inspiration,  this  volume  excepted?  And  are  not  its 
claims  arising  from  external  and  internal  evidences,  ir- 
resistible? "We  speak  as  to  wise  men,  judge  ye  what 
we  say!" 


LECTURE  II. 

THE  CREATION. 

GEN.  i,  1. 

In  the  beginning   God  created  the  Heavens  and  the 

Earth. 

SENSE,  Reason,  and  Faith,  may  be  considered  as 
progressive  steps,  by  which  the  mind  ascends  to  the  in- 
visible God.  Creation  is  an  object  of  Sense.  The 
light  which  shines  upon  my  path  is  an  emblem  of  the 
purity  of  Deity.  The  meridian  sun  is  an  image  of  his 
uncreated  glory,  who  is  the  centre  of  every  system. 
Whether  I  gaze  upon  the  heavens,  and  trace  the  rev- 
olutions of  orbs  which  move  there:  or  follow  the  ec- 
centric comet  through  its  protracted  sphere,  so  far  as 
it  is  visible:  or  examine  the  insect  that  flits  by  me,  or 
the  blade  of  grass  upon  which  I  trample:  I  perceive 
the  operations,  and  adore  the  wisdom  of  the  Divinity. 
His  voice  speaks  in  the  thunder-storm;  and  when  his 
lightning  bursts  from  the  bosom  of  the  dark  cloud, 
"my  flesh  trembleth  for  fear  of  his  judgments."  Fan- 
ned with  the  breath  of  the  morning,  or  the  gale  of  the 
evening:  standing  in  this  plain,  or  on  that  mountain: 
dwelling  on  the  dry  land,  or  floating  on  the  surface  of 
the  deep — I  am  still  with  God. 

Reason  takes  up  the  process  where  Sense  fails.  It 
deduces  inferences  respecting  invisible  things  from 
those  "which  do  appear."  Nature  watts  the  mind  to 
the  Creator.  From  its  majesty.  Reason  argues  his  great- 
ness: from  its  endless  variety,  his  bounty;  from  its  uses, 
his  wisdom.  The  foundation  of  the  Temple  of  Knowl* 


43 

edge  is  laid  deep,  wide,  and  lasting  on  the  face  of  the 
universe.  Reason  seizes  such  materials  as  Sense  can 
furnish  and  carries  on  the  building.  But,  alas,  the  ed- 
ifice remains  incomplete!  The  architect  is  skilful;  but 
the  materials  are  scanty.  Those  which  are  most  es- 
sential to  crown  the  work,  lie  far  from  this  country 
beyond  the  grave.  In  vain  imagination  lends  her  as- 
sistance, and  attempts  to  explore  the  land  of  spirits, 
where  only  they  are  to  be  found.  Bewildered,  ex- 
hausted, and  powerless,  the  artist  sits  down  in  silent 
despair. 

Here  faith  takes  up  the  tools  which  fell  from  the 
hand  of  Reason.  Revelation  ascertains  all  that  futu- 
rity had  concealed;  and  faith  draws  her  materials 
from  Revelation.  The  building  rises  and  shall  contin- 
ue to  rise,  till  'the  top  stone  is  brought  forth  with 
Shouting."  For  "faith  is  the  substance  of  things  hop- 
ed for,  and  the  evidence  of  things  not  seen." 

Sense  cannot  introduce  us  to  the  invisible  Majesty 
of  heaven.  It  can  only  present  us  with  his  image. 
The  pure,  ethereal  light — the  blaze  of  a  noontide  sun 
— the  azure  heavens  and  revolving  orbs — the  mysteri- 
ous, eccentric  comet — the  insect  curiously  wrought, 
and  the  grass  simply  elegant — the  thunder-storm — the 
lightning  vivid  and  irresistible — the  morning  and  eve- 
ning breeze — the  verdant  plain  and  the  elevated  moun- 
tain— the  s  )lid  earth,  and  the  rolling  seas — these  all 
reflect  the  glory  of  Deity,  all  bear  the  impress  of  his 
hand,  all  develope  his  wonderful  agency — but  they 
are  not  GOD  HIMSELF. 

Reason  ascends  a  little  higher;  and  from  the  volume 
of  nature,  through  the  medium  of  sense,  unfolds  a  jittle 
of  the  divine  nature,  and  a  few  of  his  perfections.  His 
immensity,  his  wisdom,  his  liberality,  may  be  inferred 


44 

from  every  thing  which  I  behold:  but,  alas,  J  am  still 
at  a  distance  from  God!  What  is  he  to  me?  What 
does  he  require?  Have  I  disobeyed  the  dictates  of  rea- 
son at  any  time?  or  neglected  to  serve  him?  If  so  will 
he  pardon  sin?  and  how  am  I  to  receive  forgiveness? 
Neither  reason  nor  sense  can  answer  these  inquiries, 
nor  silence  the  clamors  of  conscience. 

It  is  faith  rising  on  the  wing  of  Revelation  that 
introduces  me  into  the  heaven  of  heavens,  unlocks  the 
mystery,  and  unfolds  the  seven-sealed  book.  Here  I 
read  the  covenant  of  mercy.  Here  I  receive  the 
promise  of  pardon.  Here  I  learn  all  that  I  would 
know,  and  anticipate  all  that  I  shall  hereafter  enjoy. 
The  pressure  of  the  ills  of  life  is  lightened;  and  I  "en- 
dure as  seeing  Him  who  is  invisible." 

Who  can  behold  the  fair  structure  of  the  heavens  and 
the  earth  without  feeling  a  powerful  desire  to  under- 
stand their  origin,  and  to  be  acquainted,  in  some  meas- 
ure at  least,  with  the  architect  who  reared  them?  Cold 
is  the  heart  which  kindles  not  into  devotion,  when  the 
skies  blaze  with  a  thousand  lamps;  and  grovelling  the 
mind,  which  rises  not  through  the  system  of  the  Uni- 
verse to  the  Great  First  Cause!  Blind  is  that  understand- 
ing which  cannot  see,  amid  the  vicissitudes  of  seasons, 
and  the  changing  blessings  of  the  Spring,  the  Summer, 
the  Autumn,  and  the  Winter,  the  superintendence  of 
a  faithful  friend,  and  the  bounty  of  an  unwearied  ben- 
efactor! Insensible  is  that  mar*  who  can  look  upon 
this  grand  machinery,  and  live  in  the  bosom  of  crea- 
tion, yet  perceive  no  harmony,  no  order,  no  loveliness, 
no  design;  or  upon  whom  they  make  no  impression1 
Let  the  friend  of  HZ//  choice  be  one  who  can  relish  tho 
majesty  of  nature:  who,  on  the  elose  of  the  day,  from 
the  summit  of  some  lofty  mountain,  will  \\  at<-h  the 


45 

rising  cloud,  and  observe  the  evening  spread  her  gray 
and  dusky  mantle  over  the  features  of  the  landscape, 
till  they  are  lost  and  extinguished:  whose  eye  is  fixed 
with  delight  on  the  stars  as  they  break  one  by  one 
through  the  increasing  obscurity;  and  who  withdraw- 
ing from  the  world,  and  penetrating  the  forest,  can  re- 
joice with  the  laughing  scenes  around  him,  and  can 
relish  retirement,  nor  envy  the  dissipation  of  life,  as 
he  hears  its  noise  swelling  on  the  gale  of  the  evening, 
The  Friend  of  God,  and  the  Admirer  of  nature,  is  the 
man  whom  I  would  choose  as  my  companion,  and 
love  as  my  own  soul. 

It  is  not  possible  for  the  spirit  of  man  to  be  encircled 
with  the  present  Deity,  without  inquiring  after  the 
fountain  of  existence.  Every  thing  above  us,  around 
us,  beneath  us, — lives.  Every  clod  of  earth  teems 
with  animation.  Every  drop  of  water  swarms  with 
animalcules;  imperceptible  indeed  to  the  naked  eye, 
but  plainly  visible  when  the  organ  of  vision  receives 
assistance  from  art.  Probably  myriads  floating  in 
the  air  which  we  breathe,  are  drawn  into  the  lungs  in 
the  act  of  respiration.  Curiosity  must  stimulate  our 
inquiries,  even  if  we  had  no  other,  and  no  better  mo- 
tives: nor  can  we  examine,  without  emotions  of  grati- 
tude, a  system  in  which  every  thing  ministers  either 
to  our  necessities  or  to  our  convenience. 

In  truth,  men  of  all  ages,  and  at  every  period  of 
time,  have  been  solicitous  to  understand  their  own  or- 
igin and  that  of  things  around  them.  Every  power 
of  the  mind  has  been  exerted,  and  no  pains  has  been 
spared,  in  attempting  to  unravel  this  mystery.  The 
spirit  has  been  overwhelmed  with  extravagant  and 
clashing  hypotheses:  or  the  man  has  sat  down  con- 
tented with  uncertain  rumors,  and  mutilated  tradi- 


4(5 

tions.  The  stream  of  his  knowledge  rose  from  the 
pure  and  undeliled  fountain  of  Revelation;  but  it  gath- 
ered pollution  from  the  channels  through  which  it 
passed,  before  he  stooped  to  drink  its  defiled  wave. 
The  systems  formed  by  Reason,  and  that  suggested  by 
Revelation,  are  each  to  pass  in  review;  and  when  they 
are  contrasted,  we  hope  to  prove,  THAT  THE  MOSAIC 

ACCOUNT  OF  THE  CREATION  IS  THE  ONLY  RATIONAL 
ONE  WHICH  WE  HAVE  RECEIVED. 

The  different  hypotheses  of  men,  who  either  had 
not  received  Revelation,  or  who  have  refused  its  testi- 
mony and  denied  its  pretensions,  may  be  reduced  to 
one  of  these  two  divisions:  either  that  the  world  was 
the  production  of  chance,  or  that  it  is  eternal.  The 
several  opinions  of  ancient  and  modern  times,  appear 
to  be  neither  more  nor  less,  thin  ramifications  or  mod- 
ifications of  the  one  or  the  other  of  these  systems. 
We  shall  examine  them  separately. 

I.    THAT  THE  WORLD  WAS  PRODUCED  BY    CHANCE. 

When  we  behold  a  complicated,  yet  harmonious 
and  well-constructed  machine,  we  may  be  ignorant  of 
the  hand  that  formed  it,  but  we  find  no  difficulty  in  as- 
signing it  a  maker.  No  rational  man  would  ever  imag- 
gine  that  it  was  the  production  of  chance:  and  if  the 
idea  were  suggested  to  him,  he  would  reject  it  with 
disdain  as  an  insult  to  his  reason.  I  gaze  with  de- 
light upon  a  beautiful  landscape-painting;  color  melts 
into  color,  and  shade  softens  into  shade.  By  the 
artful  intermixture  of  light  and  of  shadow,  in  some 
parts  it  dwindles  into  perspective;  in  others,  it  appears 
raised  from  the  surface.  Here,  the  figures  seem  to 
project  from  the  canvass;  and  there  the  distant  moun- 
tain bounding  the  horizon,  just  shews  its  diminished 


47 

elevation,  scarcely  distinguishable  from  the  azure  of 
the  surrounding  heavens.  So  exquisite  is  the  combi- 
nation of  the  various  tints;  that  the  instant  I  see  it,  I 
discover  in  it  the  hand  of  a  master.  Who  in  this 
assembly  gazing  upon  a  transparent  orrery,  to  have  a 
correct  idea  of  the  motions  of  the  earth,  and  of  the  heav- 
enly bodies,  would  suffer  his  imagination  to  rest  for  a 
moment  on  the  supposition,  that  the  machinery  so  ad- 
mirably adapted  to  a  certain  definitive  purpose,  was 
constructed  merely  by  accident,  without  design,  with- 
out skill,  and  without  a  maker?  And  shall  any  man 
attempt  to  persuade  you,  that  the  solar  system,  of 
which  it  is  but  an  imperfect  resemblance,  was  formed, 
arranged,  and  regulated  by  chance?  Let  me  see  it 
produce  the  orrery,  before  Igive  it  credit  for  the  con- 
struction of  the  system!  It  is  strange  that  men  should 
so  easily  agree  in  assigning  to  inferior  productions  some 
adequate  cause,  yet  deny  it  to  superior  operations:  that 
they  should  with  such  facility  discover  the  agency  of 
man  in  all  his  works,  and  yet  not  discern  the  hand  of 
God  in  the  visible  creation, 

Plain  sense,  independent  of  laborious  investigation,  or 
superior  intelligence,  uncontaminated  by  corrupt  princi- 
ples, and  unbiassed  by  inveterate  prejudice,  is  sufficient 
to  overthrow  this  absurd  system.  Let  but  the  man  of  a 
common  understanding  look  abroad  into  the  economy 
of  nature,  and  give  in  his  evidence.  Ask  him.  whether 
chance  placed  a  boundary  to  the  restless  waves,  and  said 
"hitherto  shall  ye  come,  but  no  further?"  cr  command- 
ed the  mountain  to  rise  decked  with  verdure,  and  break 
the  clouds  as  they  passed?  or  clothed  the  valley  with 
corn,  and  turned  the  course  of  the  rivulet  through 
it,  to  water  the  young  plantation?  or  drew  an  atmos- 
phere round  this  globe?  or  bade  yonder  worlds  preserve 


48 

invariably  the  same  orbit,  during  six  thousand  years, 
around  the  same  luminary?  Propose  these  questions  to 
a  mind  of  a  common  standard,  accustomed  to  the  ex- 
ertion of  its  own  powers,  and  unacquainted  with  the 
dispute  between  Revelation  and  Skepticism:  and  it  is 
impossible  that  they  should  be  answered  in  the  affirm- 
ative. It  would  be  less  insane  to  conclude  that  the  ma- 
chine were  self-constructed,  and  that  chance  disposed 
the  several  parts  of  the  painting. 

Those  who  demand  the  voice  of  reason  on  this  sub- 
ject shall  be  gratified  by  the  testimony  of  a  great  man, 
to  whom  the  light  of  Revelation  never  appeared. 
The  mind  of  Cicero  was  too  exalted  to  stoop  to  so  de- 
grading an  hypothesis.  He  asks,  "Can  I  forbear  to 
wonder  that  there  should  ever  be  a  man  who  could 
persuade  himself,  that  this  beautiful  and  well-finished 
world  was  produced  by  the  fortuitous  floating  together 
of  certain  solid  and  indivisible  bodies,  necessarily  mo- 
ved by  the  force  of  their  own  gravity?  J  cannot  im- 
agine why  he,  who  can  thus  conclude,  should  not  also 
think,  that  if  innumerable  types  (formed  of  gold  or  of 
any  other  substance,  and  representing  the  letters  of  the 
alphabet,)  were  cast  carelessly  upon  the  ground,  they 
would  form  the  annals  of  Ennius,  so  as  to  be  perfectly 
intelligible:  but  I  much  doubt  whether  chance  would 
be  able  to  produce  a  single  verse.  I  low  then  can  these 
men  assert  that  atoms  without  color,*  without  any 
of  that  quality  which  the  Greeks  call  wo/or^t,  and 
without  intelligence,  floating  together  at  random, 
should  by  accident  form  a  perfect  world;  or  rathrr 

•  The  Epicureans  imagined  that  color,  heat,  and  similar  qualities,  b<>- 
longed  only  to  rompmmd  bodies;  and  that  si/.e  and  weight  were  the 
only  properties  of"  atoms;  or  roughness  and  smoothness,  resulting  from 
their  configuration. 

f  Plastir. 


49 

£ii  infinity  of  worlds,  some  of  which  are  at  every 
point  of  time  produced,  as  others  perish?  But  if  this 
accidental  concourse  of  atoms  can  make  a  world, 
why  does  it  never  form  a  portico,  an  house,  a  temple, 
a  city,  which  might  certainly  be  effected  with  much 
greater  ease?" * 

Let  us  for  a  few  moments  select  a  part  of  the  crea- 
tion of  God  as  a  full  answer  to  the  absurd  system  under 
consideration,  and  as  an  indisputable  evidence  of  infi- 
nite skill  and  of  omnipotent  agency.  We  are  about 
to  turn  your  reflections  upon  yourselves.  Contem- 
plate your  own  body:  observe  the  union  of  its  several 
parts,  and  their  adaptation  to  the  particular  purposes 
for  which  they  were  designed.  Mark  the  composition 
and  configuration  of  the  whole.  What  grace  in  move- 
ments! what  beauty  of  countenance!  what  endless  diver- 
sity of  feature!  what  incomparable  workmanship  is  per- 
ceptible in  the  whole  frame!  You  discover  bones,marvel- 
lously  united,  presenting  a  skeleton  of  the  human  form: 
iibres  and  nerves,  tine  and  delicate  in  the  extreme:  mus- 
cles, possessing  incredible  strength,  and  singularly  dis- 
posed: vessels,  through  which  the  stream  of  life  flows, 
complicated,  and  branched  into  every  part  of  the  body: 
n  spirit,  at  an  unknown  moment,  and  in  an  unsearch- 
ale  manner,  superadded  to  give  impulse  to  the  whole 
machine.  In  consequence  of  every  volition  of  the 
mind,  this  and  the  other  muscle  is  in  motion:  but  no 
one  can  define  the  union  between  matter  and  spirit: 
and  philosophy  in  vain  attempts  to  lay  her  finger  upon 
the  spring  which  agitates  the  vibrations  of  ten  thou- 
sand invisible  fibres.  The  whole  mass  of  blood  is  per- 
petually circulating  through  every  channel,  and  return- 

'  Cic.  e!e  nut.  c!e  or.  ii,  3f, 

7 


50 

ing  to  the  heart  black  and  improper  for  the  purposes  of 
life,  till  it  has  undergone  an  instantaneous  chemical 
change,  which  is  effected  in  the  lungs  by  the  air,  and 
it  flows  on  purified  to  pursue  its  unwearied  course. 
If  the  air  inhaled  be  unsuitable  to  perform  this  process, 
and  unable  to  effect  this  change,  immediate  death  is 
the  inevitable  consequence.  Air,  which  has  lost  its 
elasticity  in  mines  and  similar  places,  or  which  is  im- 
pregnated with  mortal  particles,  has  this  sudden  and 
awful  influence  upon  the  human  frame.  Who,  with 
the  smallest  pretensions  to  reason,  can  affirm  or  believe 
that  such  complex  machinery  is  the  production  of 
chance?  Galen,  a  celebrated  heathen,  wras  converted 
from  atheism  by  contemplating  an  human  skeleton, 
persuaded  that  workmanship  so  exquisite,  and  design 
so  manifest,  demonstrated  the  existence  of  a  Creator. 
Yet  is  this  human  frame  but  a  very  small  part  of  the 
divine  agency.  Tiie  same  skill  is  visible  in  every,  the 
meanest,  insect,  submitted  to  our  inspection. 

The  Egyptians  maintained  the  irrational  system  un- 
der consideration;  and  One  should  imagine  that  a  more 
complete  refutation  could 'not  be  made,  than  their 
own  statement  of  it.  Diodorus  Siculus  has  preserved 
it,  and  we  submit  it  to  your  examination. 

"At  the  commencement  of  all  things,  the  elements 
of  the  heavens  and  the  earth  were  blended,  and  they 
wore  an  uniform  appearance.  But  afterwards  these 
parts  separated  from  each  other,  the  world  assumed 
the  shape  which  we  now  behold,  and  the  air  received 
its  perpetual  motion.  The  fire  ascended  highest  be- 
cause the  lightness  of  its  nature  impelled  it  upwards; 
and  for  the  same  reason  the  sun  and  the  j-tais  move  in 
an  invariable  circle.  But  tiiat  part  which  was  gross 
and  muddy,  as  also  the  fluid,  sank  down  into  one 


51 

place,  by  the  force  of  gravity.  These  elements  per- 
petually floating  and  rolling  together,  from  their  mois- 
ture produced  the  sea,  while  from  their  more  solid 
particles  sprang  the  earth,  as  yet  extremely  soft  and 
miry.  But  in  proportion  as  the  light  of  the  sun  began 
to  shine  upon  it,  it  became  solid;  and  the  surface  of  it 
fermented  by  the  warmth  extracting  its  moisture, 
swelled,  and  exuded  putrescences,  covered  over  with,  a 
kind  of  thin  skins,  such  as  may  still  be  observed  in 
marshy  or  boggy  places,  when,  the  earth  having  been 
cool,  the  air  is  heated  suddenly,  and  not  by  a  gradual 
change.  These  putrescences,  formed  after  this  man- 
ner from  the  moisture  of  the  earth  extracted  by  the 
warmth,  by  night  \vere  nourished  from  the  clouds 
spread  all  around,  and  in  the  day  were  consolidated 
by  the  heat.  At  length  when  these  embryos  were  ar- 
rived at  their  perfect  growth,  and  the  membranes  by 
which  they  were  enclosed  were  broken  by  the  warmth, 
all  sorts  of  living  creatures  instantly  appeared.  Those 
that  had  a  larger  proportion  of  heat  in  their  natures, 
became  birds  and  soared  on  high.  Those  that  were  of  a 
gross  and  terrestrial  kind,  became  reptiles  and  animals 
confined  to  the  ground.  While  those  who  drew  the 
most  of  their  qualities  from  moisture,  were  gathered 
into  an  element  corresponding  with  their  natures,  and 
became  fish."* 

It  is  scarcely  possible  to  conceive  of  any  thing  more 
confused,  inexplicable,  and  uh philosophical,  than  this 
hypothesis.  Yet  even  in  this  account,  deformed  as  it 
is  by  alterations,  disguised  by  absurdity,  and  clouded 
with  obscurity,  something  of  the  Mosaic  system  may 
be  traced,  which  renders  it  probable  that  it  might  orig- 

*  Diod.  Sic.  Lib.  I. 


52 

inally  have  sprang  from  his  representation  of  chaos, 
There  is  this  essential  difference:  he  makes  order  and 
beauty  to  arise  out  of  confusion  and  deformity  under 
the  forming,  superintending  hand  of  Deity:  they  as- 
cribe it  all  to  the  agency  of  chance.  When  I  speak 
of  the  Mosaic  hypothesis,  I  would  be  understood  to 
prefix  his  name  to  the  scriptural  system,  only  because 
he  committed  to  writing  the  tradition  of  the  genera- 
tions which  preceded  him  up  to  the  birth  of  time,  and 
not  to  insinuate  that  he  was  the  inventor  of  the  ac- 
count contained  in  the  first  chapter  of  Genesis. 

On  the  present  occasion,  and  in  the  discussion  of 
the  present  subject,  I  trust  that  it  will  be  deemed  suf- 
ficient if  I  merely  mention  a  more  modern  hypothesis. 
It  remained  for  the  philosophers  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury to  discover  that  the  earth  and  the  other  planets 
were  originally  parts  of  the  sun,  struck  off  from  that 
immense  body  by  the  concussion  of  comets,  and 
whirled  into  infinite  space,  by  the  rapidity  of  their  mo- 
tion acquiring  their  spherical  form,  and  assuming  their 
present  appearance.  It  may  be  thought  that  this  ac- 
"count  of  the  creation  evinces  the  fertility  of  their  im- 
aginations; but  it  may  also  be  questioned  whether  it 
will  place  the  laurel  upon  their  heads,  as  accurate  rra 
soners,  or  as  illumined  and  sound  philosophers.  Yet 
these  are  the  men  who  arrogate  to  themselves  the 
claim  to  reason,  a;ul  who  condemn  as  supersti- 
tious and  irrational,  all  who,  rejecting  their  crude  and 

;h<T(>  to  the  plain,  concise,  and 
luminous  account,  traiuiinittrd  to  us  by  IV], 

But  it  is  time  that  we  should  puss  on  to  the  ccmsiclt  r- 
ation  of  the  remaining  hypothesis,  viz. 


53 

II.    THAT  THE  WORLD  IS  ETERNAL. 

Many  celebrated  names  among  the  ancients  sup- 
ported this  opinion;  of  whom  were  Ocellus,  Liicanus, 
Aristotle,  the  later  Platonists,  and  Xeno|>hanes,   the 
founder  of  a  sect  called  the  Eleatic.    Plato  himself  ac- 
knowledged that  the  world  was  created  by  the  hand 
of  God.     It  was  more  over  supported  by  many  mod- 
ern philosophers;   among   whom  we  may    number, 
Spinoza,  Amalric,  and  Abelard;  not  to  name  those 
of  our  own  day,  some  of  whom  hold  the   eternity  of 
the  world  in  its  full  sense;  and.  others  assign  to  it  an 
antiquity  much  more  remote  than  the  scriptural  ac- 
count will  allow.     The  heathen  poets  at  large  counte- 
nanced the  former  opinion,  which  proves  that  the 
popular  sentiment  of  the  Pagan  world  was,  that  what 
we  deem  creation,  sprang  from  a  chaos  of  which  they 
appear  to  have  no  correct  notion,  under  the  influence 
of  mere  chance.* 

There  are  several  modifications  of  the  hypothesis 
of  the  world's  eternity:  but  we  feel  it  our  duty  to  as- 
sign the  reasons  which  appear  to  us  to  overthrow  it 
rather  than  to  state  the  several  senses  in  which  it  was 
held. 

1.  A  valuable  svritert  has  laid  it  down  as  an  axiom, 
that  if  any  thing  be  eternal  it  is  also  self-existent  and 
immutable.  For  a  being  is  the  same  with  all  its  prop- 
erties taken  together.  We  can  have  "no  conception 
of  any  substance  distinct  from  all  the  properties  in 
which  they  inhere."  On  this  principle,  if  any  property 
be  removed  or  destroyed,  a  part  of  that  being  would 
necessarily  perish;  which  is  inconsistent  with  its  being 

*  See  note  2,  at  the  end  of  the  volume. 
|   l)oddr!dge's  Lectures,  xxiv,    Part  II,   page  47.     Demonstration — 

connected  with  the  preceding  chain  of  propositions. 


54 

necessary,  and  subverts  its  eternity  as  a  whole.  It  can- 
not be  said,that  it  is  impossible  for  alterations  to  be  made 
on  the  face  of  this  globe,  when  its  several  parts  are  in- 
cessantly changing;  and  the  inference,  allowing  this 
fact,  is  against  its  eternity. 

2.  The  same  ingenious  author  has  collected   and 
enumerated  at  length, t  several  philosophical  and  as- 
tronomical  objections   against    this    system.     These 
have  been  urged  by  various  writers;  and  we  shall  be 
satisfied  with  simply  naming  them.     They  are  found- 
ed upon  those  immutable  laws  of  nature  by  which  the 
several  parts  of  this  grand  system  act  in  unison,  so  far 
as  they  have  been  discovered,  and  are  comprehensible 
to  us,  and  which  are  acknowledged  by  the  world  at 
large.     They  are  to  this  effect:  That  the  projectile  force 
of  the  planets  is  continually  diminishing,  therefore,  had 
the  present  system  of  things  been  eternally  the  same, 
they  would  long  since  have  fallen  into  the  sun.     That 
the  sun  itself  is  continually  losing  some  of  its  light,how- 
ever  small  the  proportion  may  be;  and  of  course  must 
have  been  utterly  extinguished.     That  as  the  sun  and 
the  fixed  stars  are  supposed  to  attract  each  other,  they 
must,  ere  this,  have  met  in  the  centre  of  gravity  com- 
mon to  the  whole  universe.     That  as  many  substances 
are  constantly  petrifying  and  ossifying,  the  whole  earth 
must  have  undergone  the  same  change.     And  that  as 
hills  are  continually  subsiding,  the  surface  of  the  whole 
globe  must,  ages  ago,  have  been  reduced  to  a  level:  for 
if  it  be  urged  that  the  numbers  of  those  so   subsiding 
are  counter-balanced  by  others  which  we  may  suppose 
to  have  been  raised  by  earthquakes  and  other  violent 
convulsions,  we  answer — that  the  numbers  so  raised 

f  See  Dodclridgc's  Lccturr,  Part  II,  page  47—50.     Quarto  edition. 


55 

must  be  small  compared  with  those  reduced:  not  to  say, 
that  mountains  raised  by  earthquakes  are  for  the  most 
part  hollow,  and  arc  therefore  naturally  more  dispo- 
sed to  subside  and  fall  in.  This  hypothesis  supposes 
that  all  mountains  with  which  we  are  now  acquainted, 
are  the  effects  of  earthquakes,  (admitting  that  the  ori- 
ginal ones,  through  the  effects  of  time,  had  been  level- 
led, which  would  doubtless  have  been  the  case  had  the 
world  been  eternal;)  a  supposition  so  absurd,  that  we 
need  only  appeal  to  such  mountains  as  the  Alps,  the 
Peak  of  Teneriffe,  and  others,  to  overthrow  it.  Many 
others  have  been  proposed,  but  we  cheerfully  leave 
these  hypothetical  speculations  to  the  learned  and  the 
curious,  the  philosopher  and  the  naturalist,  and  pass  on 
to  other  considerations  which  we  deem  more  important 
and  more  satisfactory. 

3.  We  have  no  credible  history  of  transactions 
more  remote  than  six  thousand  years  from  the  present 
time.  The  Chinese,  the  Egyptians,  the  Chaldeans, 
and  the  Phenicians,  have  all  laid  claim  to  much  high- 
er antiquity;  but  in  bringing  these  pretensions  to  the 
teet,  it  is  clearly  manifest  that  they  do  not  deserve 
the  credit  which  they  demand.  Their  chronology  is 
so  absurdly  extended,  as  to  exceed  the  bounds  of  pro- 
bability, and  to  excite  suspicion  in  respect  of  the  facts 
themselves,  which  are  the  subjects  of  their  calculations. 
It  has  been  stated,  and  rendered  probable  by  the  learn- 
ed writers  of  the  Universal  History,  in  their  account  of 
the  Tartars  and  the  Chinese,  that  a  great  part  of  China 
was  very  thinly  peopled  so  late  as  the  year  before 
Christ  six  hundred  and  thirty-seven,  when  the 
Scythians,  under  the  conduct  of  Madyes,  made  an 
irruption  into  Upper  Asia.  We  have  a  singular  fact 
to  state,  which  will  prove  that  their  boasted  antiquity 


56 

really  falls  within  the  limits  of  the  Mosaic  chronology. 
For  the  evidence  which  we  are  about  to  produce, 
we  are  indebted  to  the  discoveries  of  modern  astron- 
omy. The  Chinese  have  ever  made  a  point  of  insert- 
ing in  their  calendars  remarkable  eclipses,  or  conjunc- 
tions of  the  planets,  together  with  the  name  of  that  em- 
peror in  whose  reign  they  were  observed.  To  these 
events  they  have  also  affixed  their  own  dates.  There 
is  a  very  singular  conjunction  of  the  sun,  moon,  and 
several  planets,  recorded  in  their  annals  as  having  ta- 
ken place  almost  at  the  very  commencement  of 
their  remote  history.  The  far  famed  Cassini,  to  as- 
certain the  fact,  calculated  back,  and  decisively  proved, 
that  such  an  extraordinary  conjunction  actually  did 
take  place  at  China,  on  February  the  twenty-sixth,  two 
thousand  and  twelve  years  before  Christ.  This  falls 
four  hundred  years  after  the  flood,  and  a  little  after  the 
birth  of  Abraham.*  Here  are  two  important  facts  as- 
certained. The  one  is,  that  the  Chinese  are  an  ancient 
nation,  although  perhaps  not  at  that  time  a  very  large 
one;  and  the  other,  that  their  pretensions  to  antiquity 
beyond  that  of  Moses  are  unfounded:  because  this 
event,  which  they  themselves  represent  as  happening 
near  the  beginning  of  their  immense  calculations,  falls 
far  \vithinthehistory  and  chronology  of  the  scriptures. 

The  Egyptians  pretended  in  like  manner  tu  4 
iin  exact  narration  for  some  myriads  of  years.     Their 
inaccuracy  is  demonstrable  from  a  plain  matter  of  fact. 

•    M;IV  :  ,  rrmminrMid  a  small  and  well  composed  • 

•  Officer's  l\itif,J>!;t"   writ  Urn  by 

MOW  living,  and  pcrsoiKilly  kr.oun  to  me?     Ii  i.-»  published 
,l:u-fac'  is  recorded  in  "this  lilt'.- 
:  ivor  of  llu-  liil.: 

en.    Theftylcof  writing  adopted  is  ai 
dives   and  i  ' 


57 

*They  professed  to  preserve  the  records  of  other  ancient 
nations  as  well  as  of  their  own;  and  their  evident  falla- 
cy in  relation  to  other  empires,  marks  the  dcpendance 
which  we  ought  to  place  in  their  history  respecting 
themselves;  and  proves  that  we  should  receive  their 
calculations  with  great  caution,  and  under  considerable 
limitations.  When  Alexander  entered  with  his  victo- 
rious army  into  Egypt,  the  priests  professed  to  shew 
him  out  of  their  sacred  annals  an  account  of  the  Mace- 
donian and  Persian  empires  through  a  period  of  eight 
thousand  years:  while  it  appears  from  the  best  histor- 
jbal  accounts,  that  the  Persian  empire  was  not  then 
three  hundred  years  old:  nor  had  the  Macedonian  been 
founded  quite  five  centuries.  In  order  to  establish 
their  chronology,  they  make  their  first  kings,  on  their 
own  calculations,  reign  above  twelve  hundred  years 
-each;  and  for  the  same  reason  the  Assyrians  make  their 
nionarchs  reign  above  forty  thousand  years.  We 
might  adduce  a  variety  of  similar  instances  of  unbound- 
ed license  in  the  pretensions  of  the  Chaldeans,  Pheni- 
eians,  and  some  other  nations.  But  it  is  unnecessary 
to  pursue  the  inquiry  farther.  Such  extravagance  de- 
feats its  own  purposes;  since  no  dependance  can  be 
placed  upon  calculations  so  chimerical.* 

4.  We  are  able  to  ascertain  the  periods  when  the 
most  useful  arts  and  sciences  were  invented;  which 
j'ould  not-  be  done  with  certainty,  had  the  world  been 
eternal,  because  many  of  them  would  have  been  invol- 
ved and  buried  in  the  mist  of  extreme  antiquity.  Mark 
the  progress  of  science.  Observe  how  soon  it  arrives 
at  the  perfection  of  which  it  is  capable!  What  elucida- 
tion the  revolution  of  a  few  ages  throws  upon  theories 

*  See  Pearson  on  the  Creed:  page  58— CO.  Folio  edition  ofl§59.  Con- 
sult also  SiilLingfleei's  Origins  ISacrse. 

8 


•58 

previouslyobscure!  In  the  lapse  ofcomparatively  a  very 
few  years,  the  hand  of  time  uncovers  a  fund  of  knowl- 
edge, which  was  veiled  in  perplexity  and  uncertainty. 
How  many  useful  arts  are  invented,  and  how  many 
interesting  discoveries  are  made  in  the  course  of  a  sin- 
gle century!     Calculate  upon  the  most  tardy  progress 
of  the  arts  imaginable,  and  determine  whether  those  of 
which  we  are  now  in  possession  are  at  all  equal  to  that 
which  we  might  reasonably  expect,  if  the  world  had 
been  eternal,  and  if  human  genius  and  industry  had 
been  gradually,  however  slowly,  penetrating  the  dark- 
ness, and  dispersing  the  cloud  of  ignorance?  If  it  be 
urged  that  floods,  and  fires,  and  wars,  with  ten  thou- 
sand nameless  hypothetical  desolations,  may  have  de- 
stroyed a  multitude  of  useful  inventions;  we  answer, 
that  the  number  of  these  must  have  been  prodigious 
indeed,  and  absolutely  inconceivable,  to  produce  a  de- 
vastation of  the  arts  which  should  be  able  to  counter- 
balance the  inventions  of  science,  \\hicb,  on  the  suppo- 
sition of  the  world's  eternity,  might  be  expected.     Nor 
could  we  with  such  facility  determine  the  periods  when 
these  useful  arts  were  discovered,  if  the  chronology  of 
the  world  really  extended  far  beyond  the  Mosaic  his- 
tory.    Admit  that  the  world  were  twenty  thousand 
years  old:  we  should  necessarily  be  in  uncertainty  with 
i  ro  ard  to  the  rise  of  the  most  simple  and  useful  inventions, 
because  of  their  extreme  antiquity.     The  fact,  on  the 
contrary,  is  simply  this:  that  the  necessaries  and  con- 
\enicnces  of  life,  civilization  and  commerce,  the  inven- 
tions of  the  arts  and  sciences,  the  letters  which  we  use, 
language  which  we  speak,  have  all  known  origin- 
als, may  all  be  traced  back  to  their  first  authors,  and 
these  all  fail  far  within  the  circle  of  six  thousand  yc; 
while  none  are  found  to  exceed  it — no,  not  onr 


59 

5.  In  the  same  manner  we  are  able  to  trace  the  or- 
igin of  different  nations;  which  we  could  not  do  with 
certainty  had  the  world  been  eternal.     We  can  look 
back  to  the  beginning  of  the  greatest  empires  of  the 
present  day;  and  we  can  also  mark  the  rise,  the  merid- 
ian splendor,  and  the  decline  of  those  which  preceded 
them,  till  we  arrive  at  a  certain  point  beyond  which 
we  know  nothing;  and  this  point  extends  to  about  the 
standard  assigned  in  the  Mosaic  account  of  the  crea- 
tion.    Should  earthquakes  and  floods  be  again  plead- 
ed as  having  destroyed  nations  as  well  as  sciences, 
and  thus  reducedthe  world  to  a  second  infancy — if  any 
had  remained,we  might  naturally  conclude  that  the  most 
useful  arts  had  been  preserved,  and  that  some  wrecks 
of  mighty  nations  would  have  survived  the  desolation, 
at  least,  to  tell  the  tale  of  woe  to  succeeding  genera- 
tions.    But  a  system  begins  to  be  in    danger,  when 
those  who  maintain  it  are  reduced  to  the  necessity  of 
supposing  things  which  might,  or  might  not,  happen — 
where  probabilities   arc  against  them — and    when  if 
their  arguments  are  admitted,  the  slender  causes  they 
assign,  are  in  themselves  inadequate, to  the  production 
of  effects  so  extensive  as  they  wish  to  establish. 

6.  It  may  be  necessary  to  notice  a  modern  objection 
which  has  been  urged  against  the  Mosaic  chronology; 
and  which  is  designed  to  prove,  that  if  the  world  be  not 
eternal,  it   may  still  claim  a  much  higher   antiquity 
than  is  allowed  in  the  Bible.     It  is  in  substance  as  fol- 
lows:* 

*  These  objections  to  the  Mosaic  chronology  are  stated  and  refuted 
very  much  at  large  in  the  Encyclopaedia  Britunnica,  article  Earth.  To 
th  *  urriter  of  th.s  article  I  am  indebted  for  the  statement  given  above; 
anl  for  the  mos;  part  I  have  adhered  to  his  language  as  best  conveying 
his  thoughts  up  m  the  subject. 


iu 

"In  pits  or  openings  of  ground  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Vesuvius  and  JEtna,  beds  of  lava  have  been  discov- 
ered at  considerable  depths  below  each  other;  and  these 
in  some  places  are  covered  with  successive  strata  of 
vegetable  mould.  These  different  strata  have  pro- 
ceeded, it  is  said,  from  an  equal  number  of  irruptions 
from  the  mountain.  Ten  or  twelve  successive  strata, 
overlaid  with  soil,  have  been  discovered  in  the  bowels 
of  the  earth;  and  it  is  strongly  asserted,  that,  by  dig- 
ging deeper,  many  more  might  be  found.  It  is  ASSUM- 
ED that  a  thousand  years  at  least  are  necessary  to 
the  production  of  a  soil  sufficient  for  the  nourishment 
and  growth  of  vegetables  upon  these  volcanic  lavas. 
If  this  be  granted,  and  twelve  such  strata  have  been 
discovered,  the  antiquity  of  the  earth  is  immediately 
swelled  to,  at  least,  twelve  thousand  years:  which  is 
more  than  double  the  Mosaic  chronology.  This,  then, 
is  the  point  upon  which  the  whole  controversy  turns; 
and  the  answers  that  have  been  given  to  this  objection 
may  be  laid  down  in  the  following  order: 

1.  It  is  granted,  by  those  who  have  written  upon 
this  subject,  that  some  lavas  are  very  solid,  and  others 
much  less  so.     The  one,  of  course,  resists  the  opera- 
tions of  time  much  longer  than  the  other.     This  also 
is  admitted. 

2.  They  have  not  determined  of  which  sort  the  la- 
vas in  question  are,  which  is  a  material  inquiry: since, 
if  a  thousand  years  were  rcquiu'd  for  the  more  solid, 
a  much  less  time  would  be  necessary  for  the  farina- 
ceous. 

3.  Soil  gradually  increases  l.y  decayed  vegetables, 
and  the  sediments  O!"M.OUS  ai.d  rain:  the,  thickness  or 
thinness  of  the  soil  must  ti  determine  whether 
a  greater  or  less  time  has  been  employed  in  the  accu- 


61 

mulation:  but  these  writers  have  not  informed  us  of 
the  dimensions  of  these  subterraneous  vegetable  strata 
— another  material  circumstance  in  the  calculation. 

4.  Volcanic  ashes  and  muddy  water  arc  sometimes 
thrown  out,  designed,  as  it  should  seem,  by  nature  to 
repair  the  sterility  occasioned  by  the  lava;  and  these 
ought  to  be  taken  into  the  account,  as  materially  as 
sisting  quickness  of  vegetative  soil. 

5.  They  have,  however,  furnished  us  with  the  fol- 
lowing fact.     The  town  of  Herculaneum  was  destroy- 
ed by  an  irruption  in  the  ninety-seventh  year  of  the 
Christian   era.     'There  are  evident   marks,  that  the 
matter  of  six  irruptions,'  say  they,  'has  taken  its  course 
over  Herculaneum;  for  each  of  the  six  strata  of  lava  is 
covered  with  a  vein  of  good  soil.7     Here  then,  we  have 
their  own  authority  for  six  strata  of  good  soil  accumu- 
lated in  less  than  seventeen  hundred  years:  which,  sup- 
posing them  of  equal  thickness,  instead  of  a  thousand 
years,  leaves  us  not  three  hundred  for  the  production 
of  each." 

At  best,  then,  this  objection  is  hypothetical  merely; 
and  upon  the  testimony  of  the  objectors,  a  thousand 
years  are  not  only  unnecessary  to  the  production  of 
such  strata,  but  six  of  them  have  actually  been  formed 
in  less  than  seventeen  hundred  years;  or  less  than  three 
hundred  for  each:  and  we  therefore  see  no  solid  reason 
to  induce  us  to  sacrifice  the  chronology  of  Moses,  to 
the  uncertain  doctrine  of  vegetable  strata. 

We  produce  only  one  other  consideration  against 
the  opinion  of  the  world's  eternity;  and  that  appears 
to  us  of  very  great  importance: 

6.  If  the  world  is  eternal,  how  has  the  tradition  of 
its  beginning  every  where  prevailed,  although  under 
different  forms,  among  nations  both  barbarous   and 


62 

civilized?     We  leave  the  skeptic  who  disputes  the  Mo- 
saic history,  and  the  philosopher  who  asserts  the  eter- 
nity of  the  world,  to  answer  this  inquiry — it  is  not  our 
business.     The  fact  cannot  be  denied.     Not  only  is  it 
to  be  found  among  the  refined  nations  of  antiquity, 
but  barbarians  who  then  chased,  and  savages  who  stiii 
pursue,  the  wild  and  brute  inhabitants  of  their  own 
inaccessible  forests,  had,  and  yet  have,  some  tradition 
of  the  creation  of  all  things.     It  is  not  merely  in  Eng- 
land's metropolis,   that  infidelity  is  encountered  with 
the   history    of  the   beginning  of    the  world;  tradi- 
tions of  it  are  to  be  met  with  on  the  plains  of  Indostan, 
on  the  banks  of  the  Ganges,  and  among  every  tribe 
and  every  nation,  from  the  line  of  the  equator  to  the 
circle  of  both  the  poles.     It  forms  a  part  of  every  re- 
ligion in  the  known  world.     Every  country,  although, 
perhaps,  claiming  an  antiquity  higher  than  we  allow, 
and  supposing  the  world  to  have  been  produced  by 
chance,  does  nevertheless  admit  that  it  had  a  beginning. 
This  was  the  universal  doctrine  of  the  heathen  world; 
excepting  that  some  of  their  philosophers,  from  the  love 
of  novelty,  or  the  pride  of  distinction,  disavowed  the 
public  sentiment.     It  was  the  common  faith  of  all  na- 
tions, and  remains  so.     We  appeal  to  the  Phenician 
histories,  to  the-  Indians,  and  to  the  Egyptians.     We 
read  it  in  Linus,  in  Hesiod,  in  Orpheus,  in  Aratus,  in 
Thales,  and  in  a  variety  of  Greek  writers  too  large  to 
lay  before  you;  all  of  whom  embrace  the  idea  that  the 
world  was  created,  and  not  eternal.     From  these,  the 
Romans  borrowed  the  same  doctrines.     Ovid,   \vho 
closely  transcribed  these  opinions  from  the  Greeks,  has 
given  a  long  and  eloquent  description  of  the  formation 
of  the  heavens,  and  the  earth,  and  its  several   inhab- 


63 

itants.*  We  repeat  our  question,  how  was  it  possible 
for  the  tradition  of  a  beginning  to  the  world,  to  be  so 
universally  prevalent,  and  so  universally  received, 
through  every  age,  if  it  were  indeed  eternal? 

From  these  representations  we  now  wish  to  deduce 
a  most  interesting  and  important  inference;  and  to  es- 
tablish a  truth  which  lies  at  the  foundation  of  all  relig- 
ion, natural  and  revealed — 

THE  BEING  OF  A  GOD. 

If  we  have  in  any  respect  succeeded  in  overturning 
the  two  hypotheses  which  have  now  passed  under 
review:  if  the  world  be  not  the  production  of  chance, 
and  if  it  be  not  eternal;  it  follows,  that  it  must  have 
been  created — in  order  to  which  there  must  have  been 
an  infinite  Architect.  We  have  seen  human  reason 
led  into  labyrinths,  from  which  it  could  not  be  extri- 
cated but  by  the  friendly  assistance  ©f  Revelation.  To 
the  eye  of  nature,  all  is  obscurity.  We  have  received 
decisive  evidences  from  notorious  facts,  that  when  an 
investigation  of  these  subjects  has  been  attempted  by 
men  of  the  first  talents,  independently  of  this  infallible 
guide,  the  mortifying  and  inevitable  result  has  been, 
bewildered  systems,  trembling  uncertainty,  clashing, 
contradictory  theories.  "There  is  a  path  which  no 
fowl  knoweth,  and  which  the  vulture's  eye  hath  not 
seen:  the  lion's  whelps  have  not  trodden  it,  nor  hath 
the  fierce  lion  passed  by  it."  These  secret  paths  are 
the  operations  of  Gocl,  sought  out  by  those  who  love 
him,  and  discovered  only  by  the  direction  of  his  word, 
and  the  agency  of  his  Spirit.  Admit  the  being  of  a 
God,  and  all  is  clear  and  luminous.  Every  difficulty 
vanishes:  for  what  cannot  Omnipotence  perform? 

*   Mrfam,  Lib.  1.     See  tlie  quotation,  note  4.  :i'  1!^  en.l  of  Uie 


04 

"The  fool  hath  said  in  his  heart  there  is  no  God.7> 
Can  he  deserve  a  milder  name  who  holds  his  irration- 
al creed?  All  nature  proclaims  his  existence;  and  every 
feeling  of  the  heart  is  responsive  to  its  voice.  The  in- 
stant we  begin  to  breathe,  our  connexion  with  God  is 
commenced,  and  it  is  a  connexion  which  cannot  be 
dissolved  for  evex.  All  other  unions  are  formed  for 
a  season  only:  time  will  waste  them:  death  will  de- 
stroy them:  but  this  connexion  looks  death  in  the 
face,  defies  the  injuries  of  time,  and  is  commensurate 
with  the  ages  of  eternity.  The  moment  we  are  capa- 
ble of  distinguishing  between  good  and  evil,  our  res- 
ponsibility to  God  is  begun — it  commences  with  the 
dawn  of  reason,  it  looks  forward  to  the  judgment  seat 
as  its  issue.  At  every  period,  and  under  every  circum- 
stance of  human  life,  man  still  draws  his  existence 
from  the  "Fountain  of  life:"  he  may  be  cut  off  from 
society,  but  cannot  be  separated  from  God:  he  may 
renounce  his  fellow  men,  but  never  can  burst  the 
bonds  of  obligation  by  which  he  is  held  to  his  Maker, 
till  he  shall  have  acquired  the  power  to  extinguish  that 
immaterial  principle  within  him,  which  can  never  be 
subjected  to  decay  or  to  dissolution.  The  last  sigh 
which  rends  the  bursting  heart,  terminates  the  corres- 
pondence between  man  and  man;  but  strengthens  tin- 
union  between  God  and  man.  All  the  springs  of  en- 
joyment and  of  existence,  are  hidden  in  the  Deity,  and 
Ihe  fates  of  the  human  race  are  suspended  in  the  bal 
anccs  sustained  by  his  unshaken  arm.  It  is  an  object 
of  the  first  magnitude,  to  learn  something  of  the  IK- 
ing.  with  whom  we  stand  thus  intimately  and  insepar- 
ably connected:  who  is  light  and  warmth  in  the  sun, 
softness  in  the  breeze,  power  in  the  tempest,  and  tht* 
principle  which  pervades  and  animates,  which  regu 
Jatcs  and  sustains  universal  nature:  but  to  deny  his  ex 


65 

istence,  is  the  madness  of  desperation,  and  the  temeri- 
ty of  presumption:  of  all  insanity,  it  is  the  worst;  and 
of  all  ingratitude,  it  its  the  deepest.  I  see  him  rolling 
the  planets  in  their  orbits,  controlling  the  furious  ele- 
ments, and  stretching  an  irresistible  /sceptre  over  all 
things  created.  1  see  the  globe  suspended,  and  trem- 
bling in  his  presence;  and  the  kingdoms  of  this  world, 
absorbed  in  his  empire,  rising  to  distinction,  or  falling 
into  irrecoverable  desolation,  according  to  the  counsel 
of  his  will.  JMy  heart  is  not  at  ease.  I  am  instruct- 
ed, but  not  tranquillized.  The  infinity  of  God  over- 
whelms rne:  his  majesty  swallows  me  up:  his  inflexi- 
ble justice  and  purity  fill  me  with  dismay:  his  power 
makes  me  afraid.  It  is  this  volume  which  first  brings 
me  acquainted  with  hi  mas  God,  and  afterwards  as  a 
friend:  which  represents  him  at  once  the  Creator  and 
Redeemer  of  the  human  race;  and  while  his  attributes 
command  my  admiration,  his  mercy  forbids  my  terror. 

TIIC  MOSAIC  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  CREATION 

remains  to  be  briefly  examined.  He  conducts  us  at 
once  to  this  great  Architect:  "In  the  beginning  GOD 
created  the  heavens  and  the  earth."  He  represents  the 
earth,  after  its  creation,  as  a  dark  fluid,  and  an  unform- 
ed chaos,  or  mass  of  matter,  which  in  six  days  God 
reduced  to  order,  and  disposed  in  its  present  form. 
"'And  the  earth  was  without  form,  and  void,  and  dark- 
ness was  upon  the  face  of  the  deep.  And  the  spirit  of 
God  moved  upon  the  face  of  the  waters."  A  modern 
critic*  has  translated  this  passage,  "a  vehement  wind 
oversweeping  the  surface  of  the  waters."  He  founds 
his  criticism  upon  the  circumstance  that  the  Hebrew 

*   Dr.  "Geildes. 


66 

language  calls  "thunder  the  voice  of  God;  a  great 
wind  his  breath;  the  clouds  his  habitation,  his  chari- 
ot; the  lightnings  and  winds  his  ministers  and  messen- 
gers, &c."  and  the  possibility  of  rendering  the  words 
SD^n^K  rTH  either  the  spirit  of  God,  or  the  wind  of  God, 
which  he  translates,  a  mighty  wind.  He  produces  va- 
rious quotations  from  the  scriptures,  in  which  T\T\ 
must  be  rendered  wind,  and  accumulates  much  criti- 
cism to  prove  that  this  is  the  primary  sense  of  the 
original  word,  and  of  the  terms  usually  employed  in 
translating  it.  An  equal  number  of  passages  might 
easily  be  extracted  from  the  sacred  writers,  in  which 
rrn  would  bear  no  other  translation  than  spirit.  Nei- 
ther is  it  quite  clear  that  rm  signifies  spirit  only  in  a 
secondary  and  metaphorical  sense:  since  by  their  ar- 
rangement of  explanatory  terms,  lexicographers  seem 
divided  upon  the  subject.t  Respecting  DVTJK  there 
can  be  but  one  opinion;  and  while  our  translators 
have  preserved  the  literal  rendering  of  the  words,  the 
translation  proposed  is  confessedly  justified  only  on 
its  resemblance  to  some  Hebrew  phrases,  the  corres- 
pondence of  which  may  or  may  not  be  admitted.  This 
premised,  I  object  further  to  the  rendering  "a  vehe- 
ment \vind,"  because  a  very  beautiful  idea  suggested 
by  the  literal  reading  of  the  words  is  lost  in  that, 
adopted  by  this  critic:  an  idea  which  is  so  well  expres- 
sed by  our  inimitable  poet,*  who  was  himself  well 
versed  in  the  original  language  of  the  Sacred  Scriptures; 
and  who  in  his  beautiful  address  to  the  Holy  Spirit, 
says, 

f  P.irklin-sl  rrives,  as  its  primary  sense,  <.•">  in  inotir.r,,-  \vliirh  corres- 
ponds with  Dr.  Geddrs's  opinion:  yet  in  his  translation  ot  Gi-n.  i,  '2,  P;nk. 
hurst  renders  I  IK-  words  "the  spirit  nf  the  Alt-ivi;"  Siockins  gives,  as  the 
primary  sense-,  s/.iritus,  then  vent  us,  &c.  II<»\v  luilc  cun  be  inferred  from 
verbal  criticism! 

>  Milton. 


67 

"Thou  from  the  first 

Wast  present,  and  with  mighty  wings  outspread, 
Dove-like,  satst  brooding'  on  the  vast  abyss, 
And  madstit  pregnant.1* 

But  it  was  impossible  to  maintain  the  simple  transla- 
tion, without  admitting  a  doctrine,  which  this  critic 
could  not  reconcile  with  the  religious  principles  which 
he  had  adopted,  the  personality  of  the  Holy  Spirit;t  and 
he  therefore  substituted  one  which  did  not  clash  with 
his  sentiments:  and  on  the  same  principle  I  prefer  the 
common  reading  of  our  Bibles,  because  it  accords 
with  a  system  which  appears  to  me  both  rational  and 
scriptural,  and  which  does  include  the  personality  of 
this  divine  Agent;  and  because  the  words  are  by  our 
translators  literally  rendered. 

The  first  thing  which  appeared  was  light;  the  separ- 
ation of  which  from  darkness,  was  the  work  of  the 
first  day.  "And  God  said,  let  there  be  light;  and 
there  was  light."  A  more  simple  and  more  literal 
translation  is,  uBe  light;  and  light  was."  This  very 
passage,  in  its  connexion,  has  been  marked  by  the  ele- 
gant Longinus,  as  a  specimen  of  the  true  sublime.^  Nor 
did  it  escape  the  observation  of  the  psalmist,  who  has 
well  expressed  it.  "He  spake,  and  it  was  done:  he 
commanded,  and  it  stood  fast." 

On  the  second  day,  God  made  an  expansion:  for  so 
the  Hebrew  word  jrp*l  which  our  translators  have 
rendered  "firmament,"  implies.  It  is  derived  from  a 
root  which  signifies  " outstretching,"  and  corresponds 
with  that  beautiful  passage  in  Isaiah  xl,  22.  "It  is  he 

f  Dr.  Gedcles  Iras  said,  "those  who  have  found  in  this  passage  the 
person  of  the  r,ui.Y  GHOS  i,  have  been  very  little  versed  in  the  language 
ot  the  East;  and  paid  very  little  attention  to  the  construction  of  the  text." 
So  easy  is  it  to  dea*  in  bold  and  unqualified  assertions,  and  call  them 
critical  remarks.  Surel}  he  forgot  thai  Milton  was  an  Hebrew  schix'ur 
of  no  common  standard. 

t  See  note  5,  at  the  end  of  the  volume. 


68 

that  slretchdh  out  the  heavens  as  a  curtain,  and 
spreadeth  them  out  as  a  tent  to  dwell  in."  It  is  the 
atmosphere  which  surrounds  our  globe,  and  which 
possesses  density  sufficient  to  sustain  the  waters  above 
it.  Its  design  said  Moses,  is,  "to  divide  the  waters  that 
are  above  this  firmanent" — or  atmosphere,  "from  the 
waters  that  are  under  this  expansion."  This  atmos- 
phere is  perpetually  drawing  up  particles  of  water,  till 
they  accumulate,  and  become  too  heavy  for  the  air  to 
sustain  them,  and  fall  in  showers  of  rain. 

On  the  ihird  day,  the  earth  was  drained,  and  the 
waters  which  before  triumphed  over  its  surface,  were 
gathered  into  one  grand  receptacle.  The  land  appear- 
ed, dry  and  fit  for  vegetation — received  the  name 
<*Earth" — and  produced,  at  the  Divine  command, 
herbs,  plants,  trees,  and  all  the  endless  varieties  of  the 
vegetable  world,  bearing  their  several  seeds  and  fruits, 
according  to  their  different  kinds.  The  congregated 
waters  he  called  "seas;"  and  drawing  boundaries 
around  them,  he  said  "Hitherto  shall  ye  come,  but  no 
farther;  and  here  shall  your  proud  waves  be  stayed." 

On  \\\Q.fourth  day,  the  sun  and  moon  were  formed, 
and  placed  in  the  heavens  to  illuminate  the  earth,  to 
distinguish  between  day  and  night;  to  divide,  and  to 
rule  the  revolving  seasons  of  the  year.  4wHe  made  the 
btars  also." 

On  the  fifth  day,  were  created  fishes,  and  the 
swarming,  multiform  inhabitants  of  the  hoary  dr<  j>. 
the  fowls  of  heaven,  and  whatsoever  ilieth  in  the  ( x- 
pansion  above  us:  these  all  were  produced  from  the 
waters. 

On  the  xhrlh  dity,  were  formed  all  terrestrial  ani- 
mals. Thru  also  MAN,  his  hist,  best  work,  was  -fash- 
ioned" from  the  "dust  of  the  earth,"  and  animated 


69 

with  "a  living  soul."     Of  man  he  formed  the  WOMAN; 
"to  be  an  help  meet  for  him." 

'•Thus  the  heavens  and  the  earth  were  finished,  ami 
all  the   host   of  them."     And  "God  rested  from  lii 
work,  and  blessed  the  seventh  day^  and  sanctified  il," 
as  a  sabbath  to  the  man  and  to  his  posterity. 

Such  is  the  Mosaic  account  of  the  creation,  leading 
us  up  to  God  as  the  Creator  and  Disposer  of  all  things; 
affording,  beyond  controversy,  the  most  rational  of  the 
hypotheses  presented  to  you;  and  while  it  has  left  the 
way  open  for  philosophic  inquiries,  it  has  not  said  any 
thing  to  gratify  vain  curiosity.  We  will  attend  to  some 
few  questions  which  have  been  often  suggested  from 
this  representation  of  the  beginning  of  all  things,  and 
conclude  this  Lecture,  which  has  already  been  drawn 
out  to  a  great  length. 

1 .  What  was  the  light  that  made  its  appearance  be- 
fore the  creation  of  the  sun?  In  considering  this  ques- 
tion, which  cannot  be  solved,  and  which  is  a  matter  of 
opinion  altogether,  various  conjectures  have  been 
formed.  Some  have  called  it  elemental  fire.  Some 
have  supposed  that  it  resembled  the  shekinah.  A  sim- 
ilar representation  of  it  is  made  by  our  immortal  bard: 

'« 'Let  there  be  light,'  said  God,  and  forthwith  light 
Ethereal,  first  of  things,  quintessence  pure, 
Sprung  from  the  deep,  and  from  her  native  cast 
To  journey  through  the  airy  gloom  began, 
Spher'd  in  a  radiant  cloud,  for  yet  the  sun 
Was  not;  she  in  a  cloudy  tabernacle 
Sojourn M  the  while-"* 

The  critic,  to  whom  we  have  before  referred,  suppos- 
es it  to  have  been  uan  emanation  of  the  same  sun 
that  still  enlightens  us;  and  which,  although  it  had 
not  yet  appeared  in  its  full  glory,  yet  shed  sufficient 

Par.  Lost,  book  vii,  1.C43--249. 


70 

light  through  the  dense  atmosphere,  to  make  the  sur- 
face of  the  terraqueous  globe  visible."!  But  as  I  ieel 
inclined  to  give  implicit  credit  to  the  Mosaic  account, 
in  its  literal  signification,  which  affirms  that  the  sun 
and  moon  were  made  on  tinefourth  day,  and  that  k'God 
commanded  the  light  to  shine  out  of  darkness"  on  the 
first,  I  should  rather  imagine  it  to  be  the  same  parti- 
cles of  light  diffused,  which  were  afterwards  collected 
into  one  body — the  sun.J  But  of  these  various  opin- 
ions the  reader  will  judge  for  himself. 

2.  Does  the  Mosaic  account  oppose  the  present  sys- 
tem of  astronomy? 

The  language  of  the  scriptures  expresses  simply 
the  appearance  of  things,  and  neither  sanctions  nor 
opposes  any  system  of  philosophy.  It  has  left  the 
road  of  knowledge  and  research  perfectly  open;  and 
neither  forbids,  nor  adopts,  the  hypotheses  of  those 
who  have  explored  the  heavens,  and  with  laborious 
and  useful  skill,  developed  the  laws  by  which  the  great 
system,  of  which  this  globe  constitutes  a  part,  seems  to 
be  regulated.  When  in  common  language  we  say — 
"the  sun  rises,  and  sets" — we  do  not  mean  to  oppose 
the  Newtonian,  or  any  other  astronomical  system,  but 
merely  to  express  the  apparent  motion  of  this  grand 
luminary.  It  is  the  beauty  of  the  scriptures,  that  their 
language  is  perfectly  conformable  to  our  ideas,  and 
therefore  on  most  subjects  falls  within  the  grasp  of  our 
comprehension.  And  we  ought  to  recollect  that  the 
d(  sign  of  this  volume  is  not  to  develope  the  laws  of 
nature,  but  to  lead  us  along  the  narrow  path  which 

t  DP   (".(-deles'  Crit.  Kern,    on   Gen.  c,  i.Arr.  3,  vol.   I.    p.  14;   quarto. 

i  I  do  nol  profi-so  '<>  ol!cr  ibis  hypotlu  :•  of  cbjrctif/M  and  dif- 

fic"!'y;bu'    it  is    the   best,    \vliir  h  occurs  to  me,  and  is   allowable   vvheie 

n.ereK  hypothetical*     I  :>ni  happy   to  l.tar  that  this 

thought  corresponds  \\nli  one  suirjrcstcd  in  Mr.  Fuller's  conmviuioy 
-on  Genesis,  just  published;  winch,  t  vcl  h;»d  ;m  op- 

poriunity  of  consulting. 


71 

conducts  to  heaven;  not  to  guide  our  feet  through  the 
orbits  of  planets,  but  to  direct  them  to  the  throne  of 
the  invisible  God. 

3.  Does  the  Mosaic  account  of  the  creation  extend 
to  the  universe  at  large?      This  is  an  inquiry  which 
cannot  be  decided.      Some  have  concluded  that  the 
earth,  the  sun,  and  the  moon,  only  belong  to  this  histo- 
ry.      Others  restrict  it  to  the  solar  system.       Others 
extend  it  to  the  wide  universe.     The  circumstances  of 
the  creation,  as  related  by  Moses,  apply  principally  to 
the  globe  which  we  inhabit.      The  sun  and  the  moon 
are  mentioned  as  formed   at  the   same  period,  and 
are   evidently  included    in   the  account,  because  of 
their  connexion  with,  and  advantage  to  the  earth.  But 
the  phrase,  "He  made  the  stars  also"— seems  to  advert 
to  the  great  universe;  and  may  lead  us  to  presume,  that 
the  creation  of  all  things  was  effected  at  one  and  the 
same  time. 

4.  In  what  sense  are  we  to  understand  the  term  "six 
days" — as  literal,  or  as  allegorical?    A  critic,*  whom 
we  have  had  occasion  to  mention   more  than  once, 
boldly  pronounces  it  "a  beautiful    mythos,  or   philo- 
sophical fiction." — Some  of  the  ancient  Christian  Fa- 
thers esteemed  it  allegorical.     I  confess,  however,  that 
my  reverence  for  this  volume,  makes  me  very  reluc- 
tant to  resolve  into  allegory,  any  thing  which  wears 
the  appearance  of  a  fact  on  its  pages;  much  more  so,  to 
venture  to  call  it  a  fable.     The  following  reasons  de- 
termine me  in  concluding,  that  Moses  designed  it  as  a 
statement  of  facts,  and  that  we  ought  to  understand  the 
phrase,  "six  days."  in  its  literal  sense: 

The  seventh  day  was  instituted  as  a  Sabbath,  that 
in  it  the  man  might  rest  from  his  labor,  and  more  im- 
mediately serve  his  gracious  Creator;  and  the  reason, 

*  Dr.  Geddes. 


the  only  reason,  assigned  for  it  in  the  promulgation  of 
the  law  was,  that  "in  six  days  the  Lord  made  heav- 
en and  earth,  the  sea  and  all  that  in  them  is;  where- 
fore the  Lord  blessed  the  seventh  day,  and  hallow- 
ed it." 

Thisis  the  reason  always  produced,  when  the  institu- 
tion of  the  Sabbath  is  at  all  named;  and  in  consequence 
of  it,  the  seventh  day  was  observed,  till  the  resurrec- 
tion of  Christ  on  the  first  day  of  the  week:  when,  in 
perpetual  remembrance  of  this  great  and  glorious 
event,  theirs/  day  became  the  Christian  sabbath,  and 
the  seventh  was  laid  aside. 

The  apostle  who  wrote  to  the  Hebrews,  quotes  this 
passage  from  Genesis,  in  the  second  chapter,  and  at 
the  fourth  verse,  of  his  epistle: — uAnd  God  did  rest  the 
seventh  day  from  all  his  works.57  In  his  reasoning  up- 
on this  passage,  he  makes  no  one  remark,  which  dis- 
covers the  least  approximation  to  an  allegorical  inter- 
pretation; much  less  did  he  seem  to  regard  it  as  "a 
beautiful  mythos:"  on  the  contrary,  every  thing  which 
he  says  throughout  that  chapter,  appears  to  ascertain 
very  clearly,  that  he  understood  the  phrase,  "six  days" 
used  by  Moses,  in  its  literal  sense. 

5.  Can  any  reason  be  assigned  for  the  number  of 
days  fixed  upon,  and  occupied  in  this  great  work? 
Certainly  not.  We  dare  not  attempt  to  fathom  the 
divine  designs;  nor  is  the  Deity  to  be  jud.;c'd  at  a  hu- 
man tribunal.  Perhaps  (for  what  can  be  offered  but 
conjecture?)  he  carried  on  his  work  in  progression,  and 
ix  days  for  the  performance  of  that,  which  he 
could  have  effected,  had  he  been  so  disposed,  in  an  in- 
t,  to  shew  that  he  is  a  uGod  of  order  and  not  of 
confusion."  It  is  thus  also,  that  he  works  in  provi- 
dence, and  in  grace.  His  plans  arc  gradually  develop 
ed;  his  wisdom  gradully  manifested;  his  will  gradually 


73 

accomplished;  his  designs  gradually  completed.  And 
possibly  he  chose  only  six  days;  to  demonstrate  his 
unbounded  power,  that  could  perform  so  immense  a 
work  in  so  short  a  space  of  time. 

6.  How  could  Moses  be  fitted  to  give  an  account 
of  the  creation?  There  can  be  no  difficulty  in  answer- 
ing this  question,  if  it  be  allowed  that  he  was  divinely 
inspired:  but  we  may  account  for  his  ability  to  record 
the  circumstances  of  the  creation  in  a  way  which  will  be 
more  satisfactory  to  the  wavering.  It  is  no  improbable 
conjecture,  that  in  the  earliest  ages  of  the  world,  God 
communicated  his  will  to  pious  individuals,  and  per- 
mitted  them  to  transmit  it  to  others  by  oral  tradition: 
for  in  those  days  the  longevity  of  man  favored  this 
mode  of  conveyance.  It  will  be  admitted,  that  Ad- 
am, could  not  be  ignorant  of  the  circumstances  of  the 
creation.  With  Adam,  Methuselah  lived  two  hundred 
and  forty-three  years:  withMethuselah,Shern  the  son  of 
Noah,  lived  about  ninety-seven  years;  and  with  Shem, 
Jacob,  the  grandson  of  Abraham,  lived  fifty  years,  ac- 
cording to  the  chronology  of  the  history  of  Genesis, 
On  this  calculation,  no  more  than  three  persons,  Me- 
thuselah, Shem,  and  Jacob,  were  necessary  to  trans- 
mit this  account,  together  with  the  knowledge  and 
worship  of  God,  from  Adam  to  the  time  when  the 
children  of  Israel  went  down  into  Egypt,  through  a 
period  of  two  thousand  two  hundred  and  thirty-eight 
years.  It  is  easy  to  conceive  how  it  came  into  the 
hand  of  Moses:  for  his  grandfather,  Amram,  lived  a 
considerable  time,  both  with  Joseph,  the  son  of  Jacob, 
and  with  the  Jewish  lawgiver,  the  writer  of  this  history, 
himself.  When  the  life  of  man  was  shortened,  and 
the  nations  had  become  corrupt  through  idolatry, 
oral  tradition  was  no  longer  a  safe  vehicle  or  convey- 
10 


ft 

ance;  and  God  therefore  communicated  a  revelation 
of  his  mind  and  will,  which  was  committed  to  writing. 
In  retracing  the  outline  of  the  preceding  Lecture; 
and  contrast  ing  the  scriptural  relation  of  the  beginning 
of  all  things  with  other  hypotheses;  I  trust,  that  the 
proposition,  announced  for  elucidation  this  day,  has 
been  established:  THAT  THE  MOSAIC  ACCOUNT  OF 

THE  CREATION,  IS  THE  ONLY  RATIONAL  ONE  WHICH  WE 
HAVE  RECEIVED. 

"Nevertheless  we,  according  to  his  promise,  look  for 
new  heavens  and  a  new  earth;  wherein  dwelleth 
righteousness." 


LECTURE  Hf, 

THE  DELUGE. 


GEN.    VII,    11 — 24. 

In  the  six  hundredth  year  of  Noah's  life,  in  the  sec- 
ond month,  the  seventeenth  day  of  the  month,  the 
same  day  were  all  the  fountains  of  the  great  deep 
broken  up,  and  the  windows  of  heaven  were  opened. 
And  the  rain  was  upon  the  earth  forty  days  and 
forty  nights.  In  the  selfsame  day  entered  Noah, 
and  Shem.  and  Ham,  and  Japheth,  the  sons  of  Noah, 
and  NoaWs  wife,  and  the  three  wives  of  his  sons 
with  them  into  the  ark:  They,  and  every  beast 
after  his  kind,  and  all  the  cattle  after  their 
kind,  and  every  creeping  thing  that  creepeth  up- 
on the  earth  after  his  kind,  and  every  fowl 
after  his  kind,  every  bird  of  every  sort.  And 
they  went  in  unto  Noah  into  the  ark,  two  and 
two  of  all  flesh,  wherein  is  the  breath  of  life. 
And  they  that  went  in,  went  in  male  and  female  of 
all  flesh,  as  God  had  commanded  him:  and  the  Lord 
shut  him  in.  And  the  flood  was  forty  days  upon 
the  earth  and  the  waters  increased,  and  bare  up  the 
ark;  and  it  was  lift  up  above  the  earth.  And  the 
waters  prevailed,  and  were  increased  greatly  upon 
the  earth:  and  the  ark  went  upon  the  face  of  the 
waters.  And  the  waters  prevailed  exceedingly  up- 
on the  earth:  and  all  the  high  hills,  that  were  un- 
der the  whole  heaven,  were  covered*  Fifteen  cubits 


76 

upward  did  the  wafers  prevail ;  and  the  mountains 
were  covered.  And  all  flesh  died,  that  moved  upon 
the  earth,  both  of  fowl  and  of  cattle,  and  of  beast, 
and  of  evert/  creeping  thing  that  creepeth  upon  the 
earthy  and  every  man.  All  in  whose  nostrils  was 
the  breath  of  life,  of  all  that  was  in  the  dry  land, 
died  And  every  living  substance  was  destroyed 
which  was  upon  the  face  of  the  ground,  both  man, 
and  cattle,  and  the  creeping  things,  and  the  fowl  of 
the  heaven;  and  they  were  destroyed  from  the  earth: 
and  Noah  only  remained  alive,  and  they  that  were 
with  him  in  the  ark.  And  the  waters  prevailed  up- 
on the  earth,  an  hundred  and  fifty  days. 

2  PET.  in,  5 — 7. 

For  this  they  willingly  are  ignorant  of,  that  by  the 
word  of  God  the  heavens  were  of  old,  and  the  earth 
standing  out  of  the  water  and  in  the  water.  Where- 
by  the  world  that  then  was,  being  overflovced  with 
water,  perished.  But  the  heavens  and  the  earth 
which  arc  now.  by  the  same  word  are  kept  in  store, 
reserved  unto  fire  against  the  day  of  judgment,  and 
perdition  of  ungodly  men. 

IT  is  impossible  to  read  the  history  of  empires  which 
once  gave  laws  to  the  world,  to  trace  the  sources  of 
their  gradual  decay,  and  to  contemplate  them  in  ruins, 
without  emotions  of  pity  and  regret.  The  man  who 
visits  the  spot  where  ancient  imperial  Rome  stood, 
and  held  through  many  successive  ages  a  boundless 
dominion  over  the  commotions  of  the  world,  and  finds 
only  thesad  monuments  of  decayed  greatness, must  pos- 
sess IV(  iii^s  peculiar  to  himself,  if  no  melancholy  sen- 
sations arise  in  his  heart  to  accord  with  the  desolations- 


77 

without.  Where  her  awful  senate  convened,  time 
strides  over  the  ruin,and  writes  on  the  broken  triumphal 
arch,  "The  glory  is  departed/'  The  traveller,  as  he 
sits  upon  a  prostrate  pillar,  hears  no  sound  but  the  pas- 
sing wind,  as  it  sighs  along  the  weed-encompassed  por- 
tico of  some  mouldering  temple.  The  amphitheatre, 
once  crowded  with  the  masters  of  the  globe,  now  shel- 
ters the  bat,  and  the  serpent;  and  affords  an  asylum  to 
the  owl  from  the  glare  of  noonday.  Who,  that  has 
an  heart  to  feel,  can  wander  among  the  crumbling  ves- 
tiges of  ancient  grandeur,  without  dropping  a  tear  over 
the  scene  of  desolation,  and  exclaiming,  "So  sets  the 
sun  of  earthly  majesty,  to  rise  no  more  for  ever?" 

But  the  destruction  which  now  demands  our  atten- 
tion, is  of  much  wider  extent,  and  of  infinitely  greater 
magnitude.  Not  a  city,  nor  an  empire,  but  a  world  in 
ruins,  is  the  subject  of  contemplation.  A  new  and 
awful  view  of  Deity  is  conveyed  to  the  mind.  We 
behold  him,  not  descending  in  mercy  wafted  on  the 
wings  of  angels,  amid  the  full  chorus  of  heaven,  to 
spread  his  golden  compasses  over  the  vast  abyss,  and  to 
describe  the  circle  of  the  earth;  calling  universal  nature 
from  discord  and  chaos;  lending  radiance  to  the  sun, 
and  immensity  to  the  spheres;  impressing  his  image  up- 
on man;  constituting  him  lord  of  the  creation;  placing 
the  diadem  of  glory  upon  his  head,  and  the  sceptre  of 
authority  in  his  hand:  but  we  contemplate  the  offended 
Majesty  of  Heaven,  arrayed  in  vengeance;  terrible  in 
fury;  clothed  in  all  the  thunder  of  his  power;  arming 
the  elements  against  his  adversaries;  and  opening  the 
dreadful  artillery  of  his  wrath  upon  a  guilty  world. 

When  God  completed  the  creation,  ne  beheld  in  the 
harmony  and  magnificence  of  his  work,  the  perfect 
transcript  of  his  own  vast  design,  and  pronounced  the 


78 

whole,  and  all  its  several  parts,  "very  good."  By  an 
early  act  of  disobedience,  man  broke  the  law  of  his 
Maker;  and  not  only  cancelled  the  bond  of  his  own 
happiness,  but  blotted  the  hand-writing  of  Deity  in  the 
volume  of  nature.  The  fall  of  man,  as  a  point  of  doc- 
trine, comes  not  within  the  department  of  this  course 
of  Lectures:  it  is  our  business  simply  to  insist  upon  it 
as  a  fact  recorded  in  the  Scriptures,which  ten  thousand 
different  and  fatal  effects  produced  by  it,  tend  to  estab- 
lish. To  this  fact,  as  a  source,  must  be  traced  up  every 
calamity  which  wrings  a  tear  from  the  eye,  every 
pang  which  extorts  a  groan  from  the  heart,  and  every 
stroke  of  mortality  which  descends  upon  our  connex- 
ions. Sin  having  found  its  way  into  the  world,  was 
followed  by  death  and  a  long  train  of  attendant  miser- 
ies. The  yawning  tomb  presented  itself  to  the  man 
at  the  end  of  this  valley  of  tears,  and  the  grave  was  the 
termination  of  his  fondest  hopes:  to  the  earliest  race  of 
men,  as  to  us,  it  was  the  limit  to  the  longest  period  of 
existence.  A  life  of  "nine  hundred  sixty  and  nine 
years,"  like  a  summer's  day,  had  its  dawn,  its  morn- 
ing, its  meridian,  its  decline:  it  yielded  to  the  lengthen- 
ing shadows  of  the  evening;  and  gradually  sunk  into 
the  gloom  of  a  midnight  silent  and  impenetrable. 

Who  will  be  able  to  set  boundaries  to  vice?  When 
the  floodgates  are  once  opened,  who  shall  presume  to 
check  the  torrent,  or  attempt  to  stay  the  impetuosity 
of  the  rushing  waters?  The  rivulet,  increased  in  its 
course  by  the  constant  accession  of  innumerable,  tri- 
butary stcsams,  swells  into  a  flood,  and  roils  a  deep,  si- 
lent, resistless  river,  which  is  at  length  lost  in  the  bos- 
om of  the  ocean.  Such  was  the  progression  of  iniqui- 
ty. Small  in  its  beginning;  it  rapidly  augmented,  till 
it  had  covered  the  whole  earth.  A'Jan  added  sin  to 


79 

sin,  till  the  measure  of  his  transgression  was  full,  and 
the  long-slumbering  wrath  of  heaven  burst  over 
unsheltered  head.  He  who  can  think  lightly  of  sin, 
and  wantonly  or  deliberately  walk  in  the  paths  of 
temptation,  resembles  a  man  who  suffers  his  little  bark 
to  approach  the  circumference  of  a  whirl-pool:  at  first 
the  vessel  glides  on  in  gentle,  wide,  and  almost  im- 
perceptible, circumvolutions:  continually,  however,  ap- 
proaching the  centre,  and  bearing  the  wretch  thither 
with  increased  velocity,  till  in  defiance  of  effort,  the  vi- 
olence of  the  current  prevails,  and  all  is  ingulfed  in  the 
illimitable  abyss. 

Before  the  subject,  which  is  to  occupy  our  present 
attention,  is  considered  at  large,  the  intermediate  his- 
tory, which  demands  elucidation,  ought  to  pass  in  re- 
view before  us.  One  of  the  most  extraordinary  cir- 
cumstances, attending  the  antediluvian  history,  is  the 
astonishing  duration  of  human  life  in  those  days,  con- 
trasted with  the  brevity  of  our  own.  Some  have  con- 
jectured, that  the  years  ascribed  to  these  first  men, 
were  lunar,  and  not  solar.  To  consider  them  as 
months,  would  release  us  from  one  difficulty,  but  it 
must  involve  us  in  another  still  more  considerable. 
Among  other  objections,  the  following  may  be  deem- 
ed unanswerable:  First,  this  calculation  reduces  their 
lives  to  a  shorter  period  than  our  own:  Secondly, 
some  of  them  must  have  been  fathers  under,  or  about, 
six  years  of  age:  Thirdly,  it  contracts  the  interval  be- 
tween the  creation  and  the  deluge,  to  considerably  less 
than  two  hundred  years  even  admitting  the  larger  cal- 
culation of  the  Septuagint.* 

^  The  common  calculation  settles  the  date  of  the  flood  at   lf>56  years 
after  the  creation;  but  the  Septuagint  places  it  in  the  year  of  the  world 


so 

The  account  of  this  longevity,  however,  is  not  res- 
tricted to  the  Mosaic  history:  but  is  corroborated  by 
various  ancient  writers.  Upon  this  subject,  Josephus 
enumerates  the  testimonies  of  Manetho,  Berosus,  Mo- 
chus,  Hestaeus,  Jerome  the  Egyptian;  the  writers  of 
the  Phenician  antiquities,  Hesiod,  Hecataeus;  Hellani- 
cus,  Acusilaus,  Ephorus,  and  Nicholas,  who  generally 
agreed  that  Hhe  ancients  lived  a  thousand  years."* 

We  have  accumulated  these  names  to  shew,  that 
these  men  either  were  in  possession  of  traditions  relating 
to  this  fact,  upon  which  their  assertions  are  founded; 
or  that  they  borrowed  them  from  Moses:  and  in  ei- 
ther case  our  purpose  is  answered.  For  if  they  receiv- 
ed them  from  prevalent  traditions,  it  will  be  granted 
that  these  traditions  had  originally  some  foundation  in 
fact;  and  they  correspond  with  the  sacred  history. 
But  if  they  borrowed  them  from  Moses,  two  points 
are  gained  on  our  part,  ft  is  proved,  on  this  principle, 
that  such  a  man  as  Moses  did  really  exist;  that  his 
writings  were  then  extant;  that  they  were  in  substance 
what  they  now  are;  and  that  they  bear  an  antiquity 
more  remote  than  these,  which  are  allowed  to  be  the 
most  ancient  of  the  heathen  writers.  It  is  proved  fur- 
ther, that  his  history  was  highly  esteemed;  and  that  it 
was  supposed,  by  these  writers,  to  contain  facts. 
Whether  they  drew  from  Moses,  or  from  tradition;  and 
whether  their  testimony  sprang  from  his  narra- 
tion, or  from  any  other  source;  either  way,  the  Mosa- 
ic account  of  these  early  ages,  is  corroborated  by  the 
oldest  fragments  of  antiquity. 

Various  inquiries  have  been  agitated  respecting  the 
principles  on  which  we  may  reasonably  account  for 

at  the  cmlof  the  volume. 


81 

this  longevity;  and  it  will  be  readily  granted  that  the  an- 
swers attempted  are  founded  upon  opinion  only. 
Some  have  imputed  it  to  the  temperance  of  the  antedi- 
luvians, and  their  simplicity  of  diet.  Others  have  im- 
agined that  it  arose  from  the  superior  excellence  of 
their  fruits,  or  some  peculiar  salubrity  in  the  herbs  of 
those  days.  A  third  class  of  philosophers  have  stated, 
that  it  proceeded  from  the  strength  of  their  stamina, 
or  first  principles  of  bodily  constitution;  that  they  had 
an  organization  more  vigorous,  and  a  frame  more  ro- 
bust. This  has  been  admitted,  by  some,  to  be  a 
concurrent,  but  not  a  sole  and  adequate  cause:  since 
Shem,  who  was  born  before  the  flood,  and,  it  is  to  be 
presumed,  had  therefore  all  the  strength  of  an  antedi- 
luvian constitution,  fell  short  of  the  age  of  his  fathers 
three  hundred  years.  In  addition,  therefore,  to  natural 
bodily  energy,  it  is  probable  that  there  was  a  tempe- 
rature of  the  air;  and  an  adaptation  of  the  general  state 
of  the  earth,  to  the  production  of  this  extraordina* 
ry  longevity,  which  temperature  was  destroyed  by  the 
Deluge.  But  there  is  no  way  of  completely  answering 
such  inquiries,  but  by  referring  immediately  to  the  will 
and  power  of  Him,  who  is  "wonderful  in  counsel,  and 
excellent  in  working?' 

Moses  relates  also  an  union  which  took  place  be- 
tween the  family  of  Seth  and  the  descendants  of 
Cain:  for  so  we  interpret  the  phrase,  "Sons  of  God," 
and  "daughters  of  men."  It  is  generally  believed  that 
the  sons  of  Seth  had,  till  that  time,  preserved  the  wor- 
ship of  God,  with  correspondent  purity  of  life,  while 
it  is  agreed  that  the  posterity  of  Cain  were  given  over 
to  "vile  affections;"  and  on  this  supposition  the  fitness 
of  the  terms  used,  and  the  propriety  of  their  applica- 
tion to  the  respective  parties,  will  not  be  disputed.  This 
11 


iatal  union  totally  destroyed  the  principles  of  holiness 
which  a  part  of  the  human  race  had  preserved  from 
extinction;  and  when  from  this  commerce  sprang 
'•mighty  men,'"  and  "men  of  renown/'  "the"  whole 
Dearth  wab"  quickly  "filled  with  violence."  "There 
were,"  also,  "giants  in  the  earth  in  those  days."  We 
understand  the  term  literally,  as  implying,  not  merely 
men  of  violence,  but  of  extraordinary  bulk  and  stature. 
And  why  should  this  account  be  disputed,  when  con- 
firmed by  so  many  ancient  writers?  Pausanias,  Philo- 
stratus,  Pliny,  and  others,  speak  decidedly  of  the  re- 
mains of  gigantic  bodies  discovered  in  their  days.* 
ik Upon  the  rending  of  a  mountain  in  Crete,  by  an 
earthquake/'  says  this  last  mentioned  natural  historian, 
"there  was  found  standing  upright  a  gigantic  body." 
Josephus  speaks  of  bones  seen  in  his  days,  of  a  magni- 
tude that  almost  exceeded  credibility.  Even  Homer, 
who  wrote  three  thousand  years  ago,  speaks,  from  tra- 
dition, that,  in  his  "degenerate  days,"  the  human  frame 
was  dwindled  down  into  half  its  size.  It  is  not  necessa- 
ry to  contend,  nor  is  it  intimated  in  the  Mosaic  account, 
that  the  bodies  of  men  in  general  were  of  such  prodi- 
gious dimensions:  all  that  we  wish  to  prove  is,  that 
-there  were  giants  in  those  days;"  that  there  were,  prob- 
ably, many  of  them;  and  that  this  scriptural  relation 
is  abundantly  confirmed  by  profane  historians. 

At  this  time,  fraud  and  injustice,  rapine  and  violence, 
according  to  the  sacred  writer,  extended  themselves 
•  >V<T  the  face  of  the  earth.  Is  he  singular  in  this  declar- 
ation? Who  that  has  read  the  records  of  antiquity,  may 

'•  r)oclclrid^c:'s  Lectures,  1'arf  v).  Prop,  rix.&r.  p  2*A>.  §~>,  4'.o.  edit. 

Gvolm.s  <!<•  Vrrii     Ki-litf.  dins'.    $\\  Plin.  iNux.    Jicst.   111).  \.<  . 

16.      C'i;,sult    :tU<>    Dr.  (ii-ddcs'  Criliri-m    «n    (ii-n.vi,    in  \viiich    li 
JUMlScb  ;r»  opj. "  i  tli:it  »tat<  ('.  abivi-;  hut,:is  it  appears  to  the 

\\r.ti/r«)f  ;l»cj»c  I  .  "iu-,\\ !,;<  l>  It  n i.ilu  upon  ilieverucily 

oi  Mu»ts,  us  an  liikUmun;  uiul  cicstioys  liis  claim  to  inspiration. 


S3 

not  gather  a  confirmation  of  his  statement,  from  their 
deposition?  Who  that  is  conversant  with  th<>  1-ibles  of 
the  heathen  poets,  may  not  extract  this  truth  from  the 
cumbrous  mass  of  fiction  by  which  it  is  overwhelmed. 
A  golden  age  gradually  degenerating  into  an  iron  one, 
has  been  sung  by  a  thousand  bards,  whose  silent  harps 
have  long  since  mouldered  away  with  the  ashes  of 
their  masters!  Which  of  the  ancient  poets,  did  not  cel- 
ebrate these  times?  or  deplore  their  extinction?  Catul- 
lus* has  stated  this  fact  nearly  in  the  terms  used  by 
Moses;  and  has  amplified  his  expressions  so  largely,  as 
to  present  almost  a  commentary  upon  the  sixth  chap- 
ter of  Genesis.  Ovidt  tells  the  sarre  tale;  and  repre- 
sents his  injured  justice  driven  from  men  by  the  hand 
of  rapacity,  and  seeking  shelter  in  her  native  heavens. 
Amidst  this  general  depravity,  \vas  issued  a  solemn 
declaration  from  heaven;  "My  spirit  shall  not  always 
strive  with  man."  Yet  was  not  sudden  and  silent 
destruction,  commissioned  to  destroy  the  guilty.  The 
patience  and  pity  of  God,  were  manifested  even  in  his 
rising  indignation.  Enoch  and  Noah  were  "preach- 
ers of  righteousness;"  and  a  space  of  one  hundred  and 
twenty  years  was  allotted  to  the  offenders  for  repent- 
ance. Enoch,  in  the  mean  time,  was  received  into 
heaven  "without  tasting  of  death;"  and  Noah  having 
closed  his  unavailing  ministry,  entered  into  the  ark, 
constructed  according  to  the  pattern  given  by  God 
himself  with  his  family,  and  the  pairs  of  all  living  ani- 
mals. For  the  world they  "were  eating  and 

*  In  his  Epithalamium  of  Peleus  and  Thetis:  see  rote  2,  at  the  end  t;i 
the  volume. 

-f-  Victa  jacct  p:etas;  el  virgo  csjde  madentes 
Ultima  coelestum  terras  Astrca  veliquil. 

OviSsMax-  • 

Faith  flies!   and  pie'v  in  exile  mourns; 
And  justice,  lie  re  oppressM,  to  heuv'u  relu.ru$_* 


86 

Josephus  alludes,  Bcrosus  adds,  "It  is  reported  that 
part  of  the  ship  now  remains  in  Armenia,  on  the  Gor- 
dyasan  mountains;*  and  that  some  bring  thence 
pitch,  which  they  use  as  a  charm. "t 

Lucian  speaks  of  a  very  remote  history  of  the  ark, 
laid  up  in  Hierapolis  of  Syria;  and  the  account  which, 
according  to  him,  the  Greeks  gave  of  the  deluge  is 
as  follows:  "That  the  first  race  of  men  were  self-willed, 
perpetrating  many  crimes,  regardless  of  oaths,  inhos- 
pitable, uncharitable:  for  which  cause,  great  calami- 
ties fell  upon  them.  For  suddenly  the  earth  threw 
out  much  water:  a  deluge  of  rain  fell  from  heaven: 
rivers  overflowed  exceedingly;  and  the  sea  itself  over- 
spread the  globe  to  that  degree,  that  all  things  were 
overwhelmed  by  the  water,  and  the  whole  of  mankind 
perished.  Deucalion  alone  remained,  the  source  of 
another  generation,  on  account  of  his  prudence  and 
piety.  He  was  preserved  thus:  In  a  great  ark,  which 
he  had  prepared,  he  placed  his  wives,  and  his  children, 
and  entered  also  himself.  After  them  went  in  bears, 
and  horses,  and  lions,  and  serpents,  and  all  other  living 
creatures  upon  the  face  of  the  earth,  by  pairs.  He 
received  all  these  animals,  which  had  no  power  to 
injure  him,  but  were  extremely  familiar,  being  over- 
ruled by  Divine  influence.  These  all  floated  togeth- 
er, in  the  same  ark,  so  long  as  the  waters  were  upon 
the  earth. '^ 

We  have  already  remarked,  that  the  same  person 
was  intended  by  a  diveisity  of  names;  and  Grotius 
says,  that  uSeisithrus,  Ogyges,  and  Deucalion,  are  all 

•Same  as  Moses  calls  Ararath.     See  Grotius  do  Writ.    UcTig.  Christ. 
$  16  notes. 

jjoseplnis  roiiti'.  Appion,  primo;  ct  Antiq.  His    lib   i.  cap.   4. 
U.ncian,    lihro    dc    IX-u.    S.rn,   »-t    dc  t«:m/o    v-m  v  is  ,\\n  >  quo'l 


87 

names  signifying,  in  other  languages,  the  same  as  No- 
ah does  in  the  Hebrew,  the  language  in  which  Moses 
wrote."!     Now  it  is  a  fact  well   known,  that  the  an- 
cient  writers,  in  copying  from  any   original,  did  not 
give  in  their  translation  the  names  used  in  that  original: 
but  changed  them  for  some  other  that  had  the  same 
meaning  in  the  language   into  which  they  translated 
them,  as  the  original  names  had  in  that,   from  which 
they  transcribed,     For  instance,  Alexander  the  histo- 
rian, writing  concerning  Isaac  in  Greek,  does  not  ad- 
here to  the  original  name,  but  calls  him  Gelota  (FeAwra) 
or  "Laughter:"  which  is  the  interpretation  of  the  He- 
brew name  Isaac;  and  was  given  him  by  Sarah  in  re- 
membrance of  some  circumstances  relating  to  his  birth. 
Thus,  by  the  different  names  used   in  the  accounts 
which  different  nations  give  of  the  deluge,  the  same 
person  is  intended— and  that  person  is  Noah.     Dio- 
dorus  says,  it  is  the  tradition  of  the  Egyptians,   that 
'•Deucalion's  was  the  universal  deluge."     Plato  cor- 
roborates  this   testimony  by  saying,  "that  a  certain 
Egyptian   priest,   related  to  Solon,  out  of  their  sacred 
books,  the  history  of  the  universal  deluge;  which  took 
place  long  before  the  partial   inundations  known  to 
the  Grecians."     There  is  another  remarkable  coinci- 
dence and  correspondence  with  the  Mosaic  account: 
the  very  day  fixed  by  Moses  as  the  beginning  of  the 
deluge,  agrees  exactly  with  the  day   in  which,    Plu- 
tarch tells  us,  Osiris  went  into  the  ark,  the  seventeenth 
of  Athyr;  which  is  the  second  month  after  the  au- 
tumnal equinox,  the  sun  then  passing  through  Scor- 
pio.— It  is  thus  that  the  evidence  of  the  universal  del. 
uge,  in  this  particular  branch  of  it,  corresponds  with 

fGrotius   de  Ve;it.  Relig-.  Christ.  §  IS— notes;  where  also   these   ex- 
tracts  from  Lucian  and  oU.trs,  arc  quoted  at  leng'h,  whL  rnativ  similifr 


88 

that  of  the  creation:  that  it  is  equally  the  subject  of 
tradition;  and  that  tradition,  varying  a  little  in  circum- 
stance, is  equally  prevalent  over  the  face  of  the  whole 
earth.  This  tact  is  farther  proved  by, 

2,  TllE  EXISTENCE  OF  VAST  QUANTITIES  OF  MA- 
RINE PRODUCTIONS  UPON  THE  TOPS  OF  MOUNTAINS, 
AND  UNDER  THE  SURFACE  OF  THE  GROUND,  TO  CON- 
SIDERABLE DEPTHS,  OVER  THE  WHOLE  EARTH,  AND  AT 

ALL  DISTANCES  FROM  THE  SEA — The  earthquake  that 
shakes  the  towering  palace,  and  the  proud  battlements 
of  the  city  to  the  ground,  rends  the  bosom  of  the 
earth,  and  discloses  the  shells  and  teeth  of  fish — the 
bones  of  animals — entire  or  partial  vegetables — evi- 
dently transported  thither  from  their  respective  ele- 
ments, by  some  grand  and  universal  commotion,  affect- 
ing at  one  and  the  same  time,  the  sea  and  the  dry 
land,  and  destroying  the  limits  of  their  mutual  separ- 
ation. This  was  considered  as  a  decisive  argument 
till  the  recent  hypotheses  of  some  modern  philosophers 
have  furnished  an  evasion  of  its  force. t  It  has  been 
proved  that  volcanoes  are  capable  of  forming  moun- 
tains of  very  considerable  magnitude:  that  the  fire  of 
them  lies  deep,  and  often  below  the  waters  of  the  ocean 
itself.  On  this  account,  marine  substances  may  be 
found  at  all  depths  HI  these  volcanic  mountains, 
and  yrt  afford  no  proof  of  a  deluge.  There  would 
be  some  weight  in  this  argument  if  these  marine  sub- 
stances were  found  only  in  the  neighborhood  of  vol- 
canoes: but  with  all  its  plausibility,  it  is  incapable  of 
universal  application.  It  may  be  thought  to  account 
for  marine  substanceslying  deep  in  volcanic  mountains, 
or  lands  stretching  along  the  borders  of  the  ocean,  and 
liable  to  volcanic  irruptions:  but  it  will  furnish  no  sat- 

pir  William  Hamilton. 


89 

isfaetory  reason  for  their  existence  in  an  inland  coun- 
try, free  from  volcanoes,  and  hundreds  of  miles  dis- 
tant from  the  sea.  There  are  also  appearances  of  des- 
olation presented  in  nature,  which  cannot  be  accounted 
for,  even  on  the  supposition  of  earthquakes;  nor  be 
deemed  the  consequence  of  any  convulsion,  less  pow- 
erful than  that  of  an  universal  deluge. 

Another  hypothesis  is  levelled  against  the  system 
which  we  espouse.  Some  philosophers  have  supposed, 
that  a  perfect  transposition  of  the  order  of  things  has 
taken  place:  that  what  is  land  was  once  sea:  and  that 
where  the  ocean  rolls  his  proud  waves,  the  earth  pre- 
sented her  fair  and  cultivated  face.*     If  this,  indeed, 
was  the  case,  as  the  sea  is  liable  to  the  same  volcanic 
irruptions,  the  existence  of  marine  productions,  on  ev- 
ery part  of  the  globe,  may  be  accounted  for,  without 
the  admission  of  an  universal  deluge:  since  we  may 
easily  imagine,  that  when  the  waters  retreated,  they  left 
some  of  their  spoils,  deeply  implanted,  behind.     The 
observations  which  we  have  made,  and  are  capable  of 
making,  in  the  contracted  sphere  of  our  personal  knowl- 
edge— and  the  changes  which  are  effected  on  the  face 
of  nature,  in  the  narrow  circle  of  the  few  years  allot- 
ted to  us — may  not  perhaps  be  deemed  any  thing:  but 
those  of  ages  and  generations  long  si  nee  roiled  by,  and 
which  are  recorded  on  the  faithful  page  of  impartial 
history,  ought  to  be  duly  appreciated.      The  inroads 
which  the  sea  has  made  upon  the  land,  recorded  by 
those  who  have  measured  and  watched  its  boundaries, 
in  the  remembrance  of  our  fathers,  have  been  compar- 
atively inconsiderable:  nor  will  any  authentic  history 
of  the  most  remote  periods,  furnish  us  with  matters  of 
fact  to  justify,  or  even  to  countenance,  an  hypothesis 

•Buffbn. 

12 


go 

so  extravagant.  Every  instance  which  can  be  produ- 
ced of  the  ground  gained  by  the  waves  upon  the  shores 
of  the  globe,  is  so  trifling,  and  the  conquest  was  so 
slowly  acquired,  that  the  system  proposed  must  sup- 
pose an  antiquity  of  the  world,  very  little  different,  as 
it  respects  the  objections  that  lie  against  it,  from  the 
hypothesis  which  maintains  its  eternity;  the  answer  to 
which  fell  under  the  department  of  the  preceding  Lec- 
ture. This  wild  opinion,  moreover,  seems  to  suppose 
islands  only  the  tops  of  mountains:  but  over  the  whole 
face  of  our  present  continents  is  there  no  such  moun- 
tain, or  chain  of  mountains,  in  shape  or  extent,  as  our 
native  country — whose  hoary  cliffs  stretch  their  bar- 
riers wide  and  firm,  frowning  defiance  equally  upon 
the  waves  which  assault  her  shores,  and  the  power  ot" 
nations  who  insult  her  majesty?  On  the  whole,  we 
think,  that  only  on  the  principle  of  an  universal  del- 
uge can  the  existence  of  marine  productions  found 
scattered  wide,  and  buried  deep,  over  the  whole  globe, 
be  accounted  for:  since  the  theory  which  supposes  the 
retreat  of  the  ocean  from  our  present  earth,  and  that 
which  rather  suggests,  than  asserts,  that  all  dry  land 
was  thrown  up  from  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  by  volcan- 
ic, subterraneous  fires,  are  equally  preposterous  and  ir- 
rational. Now,  the  waters  were  long  enough  upon 
the  earth,  according  to  the  Mosaic  account,  for  shell- 
fish to  breed  on  land,  and  to  increase  from  spawn  to 
their  full  size;  the  action  of  the  waters  upon  the  earth 
would  greatly  soften  it;  and  the  spoils  of  the  deep,  at, 
and  before,  the  retreat  of  the  waters,  would  be  deeply 
i  bed,  and  covered  by  the  perforated  and  broken  soil. 
There  appears  to  us  to  be  but  one  way  of  determining 
upnn  this  point:  the  Mosaic  history  is  so  express,  that 
either  an  universal  deluge  must  be  admitted,  or  the 


91 

whole  narration  rejected.  Had  the  deluge  been  only 
partial,  some  winged  animals  might  have  niu.ie  their 
escape  from  it,  since  it  gradually  and  progressively  ex 
tended;  and  time  was  consequently  afforded  them  for 
flight  from  the  encroaching  waters:  but  it  is  said,  "all 
flesh  died,  that  moved  upon  the  earth,  both  of  fowl 
and  of  cattle."  And  if  the  waters  were  restricted  to 
only  a  portion  of  the  earth,  a  constant  miraculous 
power  must  have  been  exerted  to  keep  them  at  an  el- 
evation so  immense,  as  to  cover  all  the  high  hills  of  the 
immersed  part,  from  running  off  into  the  sea,  supposing 
the  sea  to  have  preserved  its  usual  level.  Nor  is  it 
easily  ascertained,  how  far  the  human  race  had  spread 
themselves  over  the  face  of  the  earth,  or  the  degree  in 
which  man  had  multiplied.  When,  therefore,  we  speak 
of  the  Deluge,  we  mean  an  universal  flood;  and  mean 
to  distinguish  it  from  the  partial  inundations  which 
from  time  to  time  have  laid  waste  particular  countries; 
and  which,  in  more  remote  ages,  were  preserved  in 
remembrance  by  the  heathen  poets. 

II.  We  pass  on  to  present  you  with  a  selection  of  a  few, 
from  the  innumerable  HYPOTHESES  BY  WHICH  IN- 
GENIOUS WRITERS  HAVE  ATTEMPTED  TO  ACCOUNT 

FOR  IT. 

* 

To  all  who  have  written  upon  this  subject,  the 
grand  difficulty  appears  to  have  been,  the  prodigious 
quantity  of  waters  requisite  to  such  a  deluge  as  that 
described  by  Moses.  There  are  two  sources  whence  the 
sacred  historian  deduces  them:  "the  fountains  of  the  great 
deep  were  broken  up;  and  the  windows  of  heaven 
were  opened.'7  The  proportion  of  water  necessary  to 


02 

constitute  an  universal  deluge,  has  been  by  some  esti- 
mated at  eight  oceans;  while  others*  have  computed 
it  at  not  less  than  twenty  two.  The  inquiry  then  is, 
What  did  Moses  intend  by  'the  fountains  of  the  deep?" 
and  are  these  united  with  "the  windows  ot  heaven,"' 
sufficient  to  cause  an  inundation  so  immense? 

1.  Dr.  BuRNETf  supposes  the  world  to  have  been 
perfectly  round,  without  mountains  or  any  irregularity 
of  surface,  incrusting  a  globe  of  waters,  which  he  calls 
the  central  abyss.     He  imagines  that  this  exterior  cov- 
ering of  earth,  was  broken  at  the  time   of  the  deluge, 
and  sunk  down  beneath  the  prevailing  waters.     This 
system,  it  is  necessary  to  observe,  opposes   the  narra- 
tive of  Moses,  which  asserts,  that   "all  the  high  hills 
were  covered." 

2.  Mr.  WHISTON'J;  imputes  the  whole  to  the  interpo- 
sition and  agency  of  a  comet:  descending  in  the  plane 
of  the  ecliptic  towards  the  sun,  and  passing  just  before 
the  earth  on  the  first  day  of  the  deluge.     He  also  con- 
cludes that  there  is  an  abyss  of  waters  under  the  sur- 
face of  the  earth;  and  supposes  the  influence  of  this 
body  would  produce  a  strong  tide  on  the  waters  both 
above  and  under  the  earth,  which  would  increase  in 
proportion  to  the  nearness  of  its  approach.     Those, 
particularly,  encircled  within  the  globe,  would  form  an 
elliptical  figure  so  much  larger  than  their  former  spher- 
ical one,  that,  unable  to  oppose  a  resistance  equal   to 
its  pressure,  the  surface  of  the  earth    would  burst; 
which  lu!  asserts  is  the  meaning    of  the  phrase-,  4kthe 
fountains  of  the   L>T<-;it  deep  were  broken    up.'1    He 
further  supposes,  that,  in  its  descent,  the  comet  involv- 

•  Dr.  K.--1.  |  Ti  11'iris  Theoria  Sacra.. 

.' '  trth:  also,  the  cause  of  the  dc.luge  dcmoncira- 
ted. 


93 

cd  the  earth  in  its  atmosphere  and  tail  for  a  considera- 
ble time;  and  the  quantity  of  water  left  behind,  when 
rarified  by  the  sun,  would  descend  in  violent  rains; 
which  he  imagines  is  intended  by  the  opening  of  '-the 
windows  of  heaven."  The  succeeding  heavy  rains, 
recorded  by  Moses,  enduring  an  hundred  and  fifty 
days,  he  attributes  to  a  second  similar  immersion,  on 
its  return.  In  withdrawing  these  destructive  waters 
from  the  face  of  the  ruined  world,  he  supposes  a  ve- 
hement wind  to  have  arisen,  which  dried  up  a  part, 
forced  more  through  the  clefts  out  of  which  they  issued, 
and  deposited  the  remainder  in  the  bed  of  the  ocean; 
which  he  imagines  not  to  have  existed  before.  The 
uncertainty  of  every  calculation  respecting  comets,  and 
the  possibility  that  their  tails  and  atmospheres  are  » 
streams  of  electric  fluid,  and  not  aqueous  vapors,  ren- 
der this  ingenious  theory  very  questionable. 

3.  M.  DE  LA  PRYME,*  concludes  that  the  antediluvian 
world  resembled  the  present  one:  but  that  the  deluge  was 
effected  by  violent  earthquakes,  breaking  up  its  whole 
surface — absorbing  continents,  islands,  and  the  whole 
of  the  then  dry  land,  correspondent  portions  of  earth 
emerging  from  the  antediluvian  sea.  Three  objections 
rise  against  this  theory:  1.  The  Mosaic  history  says 
nothing  of  earthquakes.  2.  Amid  commotions  so 
terrible  as  those  which  must  necessarily  be  caused  by 
the  sinking  of  the  earth,  the  ark  itself  could  not  have 
been  preserved  without  miracle.  3.  Earthquakes  op- 
erate suddenly  and  violently:  but  the  Bible  affirms 
that  the  flood  came  on  gradually,  although  irresistibly. 
4.  The  eloquent  and  ingenious  ST.  PiEiiRE.t  imag- 
ines that  the  deluge  may  be  accounted  for  on  the  sup- 

*  See  Enclyclopedia  Britannica— article  Deluge. 
v  Etudes  de  la  Nature.     Tome  1.,  Etude   IV. 


position,  that  on  the  year  in  which  this,  great  event 
took  place,  the  action  of  the  vertical  sun,  was  not  con- 
fined to  that  portion  of  the  globe,  which  is  contained 
between  the  tropics,  but  was  carried  over  the  accumu- 
lated mountains  of  ice,  at  the  northern  and  southern 
poles:  which  extraordinary  circumstance,  he  thinks 
easily  and  naturally  explained,  by  supposing  that  the 
earth,  instead  of  preserving  the  parallel  position  of  its 
poles,  presented  each  of  them,  alternately,  to  the  sun's 
verticle  beams. 

It  seems  impossible  to  form  any  hypothesis  free  from 
difficulty:   and  each  of  those  stated,  bearing  a  greater 
or  less  degree  of  probability,  supposes,  what  in  fact 
every  theory  must  allow,  an  immediate  interposition 
of  divine  power  and  agency.      Admit  only  the  fact, 
that  HE  who  made  the  world,  destroyed  it  by  water; 
and  he  could  be  at  no  loss  for  means  to  accomplish  his 
awful  design.     The  quantity  of  water  required  is  im- 
mense:   but  not  impossible  to  be  raised.*     Who  has 
descended  to  his  central  storehouse?  or  seen  the  maga- 
zine of  his  rain  and  hail,  treasured  up  against  the  day 
of  wrath?  Who  can  affirm  that  God  has  not  a  sufti- 
cient  quantity  of  water  in  the  earth  for  this  grand  pur- 
pose?    It  has  been  proved,  that  no  less  than  one  thou- 
sand six  hundred  gallons  of  water  have  been  exhaled 
from  one  awe  of  land,  and  dispersed  into  the  air,  in 
twelve  of  the  hottest  hours  of  a  summer's  day,  and 
when  thciv  hud  been  no  rain  for  above  a  month,  and 
the  earth  \vas  parched  by  continual  heat!"*     Besides, 
the  sucrecl  writer  is  consistent  with  himself.    He  repre- 
the  earth   originally  covered,   in  its   unformed 
state,  with  water,  till  the  voice  of  God  said,  "Let  the 

•  Sec  note  C,  if)  this  Lecture  at  the  cwl  nf  thr  volume, 
j  Sec  nub.  7,  at  ilic  end  oi'tlie  volume. 


95 

waters  under  the  heaven  be  gathered  together  unto 
one  place,  and  let  the  dry  land  appear:  and  it  was  so."t 
If  this  theory  be  just,  then  is  the  deluge  effected  only 
by  reducing  the  earth  to  its  primeval  state,  and  giving 
it  over  again  to  the  dominion  of  the  waters. 

Admit  only,  from  the  reasoning  of  the  first  part  of 
this  Lecture,  the  fact  of  a  deluge;  and  from  the  second, 
the  hand  of  Omnipotence  in  the  production  of  it;  and 
there  can  be  no  difficulty  which  does  not  melt  away 
under  his  resistless  operations.  Had  there  been  no 
deluge,  it  were  difficult  to  account  for  the  universal 
traditions  respecting  it:  still  more  so,  to  explain  the 
appearances  presented  in  the  face  of  nature  itself.  It 
was  impossible  for  Moses  to  impose  the  belief  of  it 
upon  the  Jews,  appealing  as  he  did  to  the  names  found 
in  the  line  of  their  immediate  ancestors,  and  fixing  a 
certain  era  for  this  wonderful  event.  Many  of  them 
were  well  acquainted  with  the  contemporaries  of 
Joseph:  Joseph  with  the  particulars  of  the  life  of 
Abraham:  and  Abraham  lived  in  the  days  of  the  sons 
of  Noah.  Now  the  Jews  must  have  received  tradi- 
tionary accounts  of  every  remarkable  event,  handed 
down  through  successive  generations,  in  other  chan- 
nels besides  the  writings  of  Moses.  Had  his  history 
clashed  with  these  traditions,  they  could  not  have 
failed  to  observe  it;  and  had  he  attempted  to  impose 
a  fable  upon  them,  they  could  not  have  failed  to  detect 
it.  And  such  a  detection  at  the  commencement  of  his 
history,  could  not  have  failed  to  weaken,  in  the  minds 
of  his  contemporaries  especially,  the  authority  and 
validity  of  the  whole. 

But  we  must  notice 

*  Gen.  i,  9- 


III.   SOME  OBJECTIONS.  RAISED  AGAINST  Tl        ACCOUNT. 

OBJECTION  1,  is  raised  against  THE  ARK  ITSELF. 
many  have  supposed  it  too  small  for  the  purposes 
assigned  to  it.  We  might  have  presumed,  had  not 
Moses  informed  us,  that  a  vessel  so  constructed,  so  de- 
signed, and  so  employed,  could  not  have  sprang  from 
mere  human  contrivance.  The  length  of  it  was  three 
hundred  cubits;  the  breadth,  fifty;  the  height,  thirty. 
The  difficulty  is  to  determine  what  was  the  exact 
measure  of  this  cubit.  Some  fearing  that  the  ark 
would  not  be  sufficiently  capacious  for  its  destination, 
if  measured  by  the  common  cubit,  have  enlarged  its 
dimensions  to  extravagance.  It  is  generally  agreed, 
however,  that  they  were  common  cubits:  one  of 
which,  although  formerly  estimated  at  eighteen  of  our 
inches,  is  now  allowed  to  contain  twenty  two.  Ac- 
cording to  this  measurement,  the  ark  must  have  been, 
in  length  547  2- 10  English  feet;  in  breadth,  91  2-10;  in 
in  height  54  2-10;  and  its  solid  contents  amount  to 
over  2,730.781:  almost  double  what  it  would  be  by 
tiu-  former  computation.  The  form  of  it  was  an  ob- 
square,  with  a  ilat  bottom,  and  a  sloped  roof, 
rai.-t':l  a  cubit  in  the  middle.  It  had  neither  sails,  nor 
rudder;  and  was  admirably  adapted  to  float  steadily 
on  the  water,  without  rolling,  which  might  have  en- 
jrrcd  the  lives  of  the  animals:  but  it  was  unfit  to 
endure  ;i  boislerous  sea.  It  consisted  of  three  stories: 
eiich  >f  which  might  be  about  eighteen  feet  high;  and 
•  tied  into  numerous  apartments.  It  was, 
without  doubt,  so  formed,  as  to  admit  a  proper  propor- 
tion of  li'jjit.  and  air,  on  the  sides;  although  the  par- 
ticular construction  of  the  windows,  is  not  mentioned. 
The  whole  seems  to  have  had  another  covering,  be- 


tor 

sides  the  roof;  probably  made  of  skins,  like  that  of  the 
tabernacle.  Noah  is  said,  after  the  flood,  to  have 
removed  the  "covering  of  the  ark;"  which  cannot  be 
supposed  to  be  the  roof,  but  something  drawn  over 
it,  like  the  covering  of  the  tabernacle;  which  is  also 
expressed  by  the  same  Hebrew  word;  and  such  a  cov- 
ering was  probably  used  to  defend  the  windows.*1 
Upon  this  estimate,  the  ark  appears  to  be  sufficiently 
Jarge  and  commodious,  for  the  purposes  for  which  it 
was  constructed. 

OBJECTION  2,  arises  from  THE  DIFFICULTY  OF  AC- 
COUNTING FOR  THE  PEOPLING  OF  AMERICA;  AN£ 
FROM  THE  SUPPOSED  IMPOSSIBILITY  OF  WILD  CREA- 
TURES OF  ALL  KINDS  EXISTING  IN  ONE  PLACE.  With 

regard  to  the  latter  of  these  difficulties,  it  is  removed, 
if  we  suppose,  what  is  at  least  probable,  that  there 
might  be  such  a  temperature  of  air  before  the  deluge., 
as  was  suited  to  the  constitution  of  every  animal. 
Respecting  the  difficulty  of  peopling  America,  it  is 
neither  impossible  nor  improbable,  after  the  pattern 
afforded  them  in  the  ark,  that  some  sort  of  a  vessel  or 
flotilla  should  be  constructed,  which  would  be  suffi- 
ciently strong  to  convey  them,  by  a  north-east  pas. 
sage,  to  their  destination.  The  greater  difficulty  is, 
the  existence  of  wild  creatures,  and  mischievous  ani- 
mals: which  men  neither  would,  nor  could  transport; 
unless  some  restraint  had  been  laid  upon  their  ferocity, 
similar  to  that  which  existed  while  they  remained  in 
the  ark.  But  the  modern  geographical  discoveries 
have  removed  the  weight  of  this  objection.  The 
straits  which  divide  North  America  from  Tartary,  are 
so  narrow,  as  to  admit  a  very  easy  passage  from  one 

"  This  account  and  calculation  is  principally  extracted  from   Anr 
Univ.  Hist  vol.  i,  c.  7—o/i  the  Deluge. 

13 


98 

continent  to  the  other;  and  it  is  not  injpossible  that 
they  might  even  have  been  united  by  an  isthmus 
which  time  and  the  waves,  in  their  combined  influ- 
ence, have  demolished.* 

OBJECTION  3,  has  been  urged  against  THE  DESTRUC- 
TION OF  INFANTS  AMONG  THE  INHABITANTS  OF  THE 

OLD  WORLD.  We  shall  not  attempt  to  develope  the 
reason  why  the  Almighty  permits  devastation  among 
children:  but  we  will  venture  to  affirm,  that  this  is  no 
objection  against  the  Deluge  itself,  as  a  fact,  any  more 
than  against  the  existence  of  earthquakes,  which 
equally  bury  infants  in  their  ruins.  There  is  an  equal 
propriety  in  urging  it  against  the  one  fact,  as  the 
other;  and  if  it  will  not  be  admitted  as  an  objection 
in  the  one  instance,  neither  ought  it  to  be  pressed  as  a 
difficulty  in  the  other.  Those  who  oppose  the  fact  on 
this  ground,  affirm  that  it  is  "contrary  to  the  justice  of 
God."  We  contend,  with  a  learned  writert,  that  "they 
have  no  right,  in  fairness  of  reasoning,  to  urge  any 
apparent  deviation  from  moral  justice,  as  an  argument 
against  revealed  religion;  when  they  do  not  urge  an 
equally  apparent  deviation  from  it  as  an  argument 
against  natural  religion.  They  reject  the  former,  and 
admit  the  latter,  without  considering,  that,  as  to  their 
objection,  "they  must  stand  or  fall  together;"  because 
the  apparent  deviation  is  the  same  in  both  cases. 

OBJECTION  4,  respects  THE  RAINBOW.  The  reason- 
ing adopted  is  as  follows:  The  same  causes  must  al- 
ways produce  the  same  effects;  consequently  it  is  an 
absurdity  in  the  Mosaic  relation,  to  speak  of  the  rain- 
bow, as  formed  after  the  flood,  and  as  the  sign  of  a 

*  The  read,  r  may  consult  on  this  subject,  Dodd.  Lect.  pt.  vi.  §8,  under 
prop.  cxix.  p.  3^0,  351,  4io  edit. 

f  bishop  Walton,  in  his  excellent  Aptlofyfor  the  Bible. 


99 

covenant  then  made.  We  grant  that  the  rainbow  is  a 
phenomenon  necessarily  resulting  from  the  nature  of 
light,  and  the  form  and  situation  of  falling  rain:  yet 
this  objection  may  be  answered  two  ways; 

1.  Some  have  supposed  that  the  earth,  like  the  gar- 
den of  Eden,  was  watered  before  the  Deluge,  not  by 
rain,  but  by  mist;  in  which  case,  no  rainbow  could 
exist. 

2.  The  accouot  of  Moses  does   not  directly  assert, 
that  the  rainbow  was  then  first  formed;  but  merely 
that  God  appealed  to  it  as  a  seal  to  his  covenant,  "I 
do  set  my  bow  in  the  clouds;    and  it  shall  be   for  a 
token   of  a  covenant   between  me   and  the  earth."* 
The  language  may,  without  constraint;  be  understood 
to  imply,  that  the  rainbow  did   exist  before:  but  that 
now,  for  the  first  time,  it  is  appealed  to,  and  appointed, 
as  the  seal  of  a  covenant. 

We  shall  detain  your  attention  farther,  only  while 
we  attempt, 

IV.  TO   IMPROVE   THE    SUBJECT. 

How  can  we  better  succeed  in  this  great  object,  than 
by  pressing  upon  your  consideration,  the  solemn  event 
which  the  apostle,  in  the  words  read  at  the  commence- 
ment of  this  Lecture,  has  connected  with  it?  aThe 
heavens  and  the  earth  which  are  now,  by  the  same 
word,  are  kept  in  store,  reserved  unto  fire,  against  the 
day  of  judgment,  and  perdition  of  ungodly  men." 

,  Carry  forwards,  therefore,  your  attention,  and  your 
thoughts,  to  this  "great  and  terrible  day  of  the  Lord." 
You  are  interested  in  it;  and  it  is  inseparable  from  the 
subject  which  you  have  been  contemplating.  Are 
men  insensible  of  its  approach?  So  were  they  of  the 
threatening  destruction  hovering  over  the  days  of  No.- 

*  Genesis  ix,  13. 


100 

alh;  till  one  boundless  scene  of  ruin  opened  upon  tbeif 
distracted  sight,  and  swept  them  at  once  from  life  and 
hope  for  everi  Are  those  derided,  who  patiently  wait 
the  accomplishment  of  the  divine  promise,  and  expect 
the  revelation  of  the  Lord  from  heaven?  It  is  no  new 
thing.  The  world  have  ever  been  blind  to  their  best 
interests;  have  ever  sported  with  their  own  ruin. 
When  Noah  laid  the  first  beams  of  his  ark  across  each 
other,  it  is  probable  he  did  it  amid  the  insulting  shouts 
of  an  hardened  multitude.  The  building  advanced. 
Some  admired  the  structure:  some  derided  his  plan: 
some  charged  him  with  enthusiasm,  or  with  insanity: 
more  were  lost  in  sensuality;  and  all  united  in  the 
desperate  resolution,  to  bury  his  admonitions  in  the 
grave  of  oblivion.  Still  he  entreated:  still  they  spurn- 
ed his  instructions:  still  the  edifice  rose  day  after  day: 
still  the  voice  of  gaiety  was  echoed  on  every  side. 
With  strange  infatuation,  they  stopped  their  ears;  and 
refused  to  "listen  to  the  voice  of  the  charmer,"  who 
solicited  them  with  unwearied  perseverance,  and  rea- 
soned 4iso  wisely."  The  roof  is  at  length  covered  in. 
The  danger  becomes  every  hour  more  imminent.  He 
presses  his  warnings  upon  them  with  increased  energy: 
but,  pointing  to  the  unclouded  sky,  they  laugh  him  to 
scorn,  and  load  his  ministration  with  contempt.  It  is 
closed!  The  last  exhortation  has  been  given;  ami  I  r 
has  wiped  the  last  tear  of  insulted  tenderness  from  his 
cheek.  Ye  blind,  insensible  mortals!  what  charm  has 
*holden  your  eyes,"  that  ye  cannot  see?  Discern  ye 
not  the  cloud  that  gathers  over  yonder  mountain? 
The  brute  creation  see  it;  anil  hasten  for  shelter  to  the 
irk.  The  family  of  Noah  close  the  procession;  they 
have  entered  their  rd'upr;  and  even  now  Hhe  door  is 
•'" — Oh!  it  is  too  late!  fraught  with  heavy  ir  . 


ioi 

nation,  the  tempest  lowers  fearfully.     Every  "face 
gathers  blackness."  Yet  scarcely  is  it  perceived,  before 
a  new  scene  of  ruin  presents  itself.     Ah!  there  is  no 
escaping  the  hand  of  God!  The  skies  pour  an  unabat- 
ing  torrent.     An  hollow  groan  is  heard  through  uni- 
versal nature,  deploring   the   impending  destruction. 
The  birds  and  beasts  which  remain,  excluded  from 
the  ark,  scream  and  howl  in  the  woods,  whither  they 
had  fled  for  shelter.     The  sea  assaults  the  shore:   the 
restriction  of  heaven  is  removed:  it  passes  its  ancient 
boundaries:  its  triumphs  already  over  the  plains,  and 
gains  upon  the  hills.     The  ark  floats  upon  its  bosom. 
The  despairing  multitude  fasten  upon  it  an  eye  of  dis- 
traction: they  implore  in  vain   the  assistance  of  the 
prophet  whom  they  had  despised,  and  whose  pitying 
eyes  are  again  suffused  with  unavailing  tears.     He  can 
bear  it  no  longer.     He  retires  to  the  innermost  recesses 
of  his  vessel.     In  the  phrenzy  of  despair,  parents  clasp 
their  children  to  their  cold  bosoms,   and  flee   to  the 
highest  mountains.     Where  else  could  they  resort  for 
shelter?  for  the  boundless  sea  saps  the  foundation  of 
the  firmest  edifices.     What  is  their  desperation  as  the 
waves  approach  the  summit!  It  is  equally  impossible  tct 
descend,  to  rise  higher,  or  to  escape.     They  have  pro- 
longed a  miserable  existence,  a  few  hours,  only  to  sink 
at  last! — It  is  all  in  vain!  "The  waters  prevail  exceed- 
ingly: every  high  hill  is  covered;  and  fifteen   cubits"' 
over  their  loftiest  summits,  the  flood  rises  in  haughty 
triumph! 

Do  you  turn  pale  at  this  sad  relation?  Ah!  weep 
not  for  these,  "but  weep  for  yourselves!"  Do  you 
blame  their  blindness  and  infatuation?  Behold,  the 
finger  of  conscience  points  to  you;  and  its  voice  pro- 
nounces of  you  individually,  "Thou  art  the 


102 

Arc  there  not  "scoffers  in  these  last  days,  walking  af- 
ter their  lusts  and  saying,  Where  is  the  promise  of  his 
coming?  for  since  the  fathers  fell  asleep,  all  things 
continue  as  they  were  from  the  beginning  of  the 
creation."  Oh!  this  is  wilful  ignorance — this  is  incor- 
rigible obstinacy!  The  great  event,  discussed  this  night, 
stands  upon  firm  evidence;  and  it  is  the  pledge  of  that 
second  desolation  to  which  we  ought  to  be  looking 
forwards.  Are  there  not  triilers  with  the  long  suffer- 
ing of  God;  who  presume  upon  his  patience,  and  his 
mercy;  and  slumber  in  the  arms  of  thoughtless  sensu- 
ality? Let  these  remember,  that  judgment  procrastina* 
ted,  is  not  indignation  removed:  that  the  storm,  rising 
slowly,  accumulates  more  strength  and  fury  than  a 
sudden,  transient  blast.  "The  day  of  the  Lord  will 
come" — will  come  '-as  a  thief  in  the  night!"  Man,  re- 
tiring weary  from  the  labors  of  the  day,  and  slumber- 
ing under  the  mantle  of  darkness,  shall  be  scared  from 
his  sleep,  "to  sleep  no  more,"  by  the  roar  of  a  thousand 
thunders,  and  the  crash  of  dissolving  worlds!  Darkness 
shall  reign  at  intervals,  for  the  last  time:  and  death  shall 
lay  down  his  sceptre  for  ever!  Shaking  off  the  fetters 
of  sleep  and  of  mortality,  the  man  looks  around  him 
with  an  inquiring,  distracted  eye.  Great  God!  what 
scenes  of  despair,  and  of  ruin,  present  themselves! 
What  language  shall  describe  the  horror  of  that  day, 
in  the  contemplation  of  which,  imagination  fail.-. 
Kings,  starting  from  their  couch  of  down,  or  bursting 
from  their  tombs  of  marble,  shall  reluctantly  resign  the 
sceptres  of  their  burning  empires!  With  what  unutter- 
able dismay  will  they  gaze  upon  the  globe  itself,  as  it 
rolls  along  infinite  space,  blasted,  and  consuming  by 
the  lighteni ngs  of  heaven! 


103 

Oh!  it  is  no  fable!  we  urge  upon  you  no  idle  imagi- 
nation! Already  the  day  approaches — it  is  even  "nigh 
at  hand" — "the  judge  standeth  at  the  door!"  The  arch- 
angel is  preparing  to  blow  that  blast,  which  shall 
"shake  terribly"  not  only  the  earth,  "but  also  heaven!" 
The  glorified  saints  are  looking  forwards  with  "earnest 
expectation"  to  that  day;  and  the  spirits  of  the  slaugh- 
tered redeemed  cry,  from  under  the  altar,  "How  long, 
O  Lord,  how  long!"  All  things  are  hastening  to  be 
placed  under  the  feet  of  the  Savior.  "And  then  com- 
eth  the  end" — the  last,  great  day — the  day  that  shall 

disclose 

* 

"A  God  in  grandeur— -ant!  a  world  on  fire!" 


LECTURE  IV. 

THE  DESTRUCTION  OF  BABEL,  THE  CONFUSION 
.OF  LANGUAGE,  THE  DISPERSION  OF  THE  PEO- 
PLE, AND  THE  ORIGIN  OF  NATIONS. 

GEN.  XI.  1 — 9. 

And  the  whole  earth  was  of  one  language,  and  of 
one  speech.  And  it  came  to  pass,  as  they  journey  ed 
from  the  east,  that  they  found  a  plain  in  the  laiM 
of  Shinar;  and  they  dwelt  there.  And  they  said 
one  to  another,  Go  to,  let  us  make  brick,  and  burn 
them  thoroughly.  And  they  had  brick  for  stone, 
and  slime  had  they  for  mortar.  And  they  said, 
Go  to,  let  us  build  us  a  ciiy  and  a  tower,  whose 
top  may  reach  unto  heaven;  and  let  us  make  us  a 
name,  lest  we  be  scattered  abroad  upon  the  face  of 
the  whole  earth.  And  the  LORD  came  down  to  see 
the  city  and  the  tower,  which  the  children  of  men 
builded.  And  the  LORD  said,  Behold,  the  people  i* 
one,  and  they  have  all  one  language;  and  this  they 
btgin  to  do:  and  now  nothing  will  be  restrained  from 
them,  which  they  have  imagined  to  do.  Go  'to,  let 
us  go  down,  and  there  confound  their  Ianguage9 
that  they  may  not  understand  one  anoUic^s  speech. 
So  the  LORD  scattered  them  abroad  from  thence 
upon  tlie  face  of  all  the  earth:  and  they  left  off  tQ 
build  the  city.  Therefore  is  the  name  of  it  call- 
ed Babel,  because  //icLoRD  did  there  confound  the 
language  of  all  the  earth:-* and  from  thence  did  the 
\  AMD  scatter  them  abroad  upon  the  face  of  all  the 
cart  If. 


105 

OBAD1AH  3   &  4. 

The  pride  of  thine  heart  hath  deceived  thee,  thou  that 
dwellest  in  the  clefts  of  the  rock,  whose  habitation 
is  high;  that  saith  in  his  heart,  Who  shall  bring 
me  down  to  the  ground?  Though  thou  exalt  thyseff 
as  the  eagle,  and  though  thou  set  thy  nest  among 
the  stars,  thence  will  1  bring  thee  down,  saith  the 
LORD. 

WE  left  Noah  floating,  with  his  family,  upon  the 
bosom  of  an  overwhelming  deluge,  which  had  ex- 
haasted  the  fountains  of  the  deep,  to  wash  away  the 
stains  of  guilt  from  the  surface  of  the  earth.  We  are 
now  to  accompany  this  favored  family,  from  the  ark 
that  preserved  them,  to  the  wasted,  deserted  plains,, 
once  more  visible.  What  an  interesting  picture,  does 
the  sacred  historian  present,  to  the  eye  of  the  imagin- 
ation! Behold,  an  altar  erected — a  family  surrounding 
it — the  rainbow  extending  its  sublime  arch  across  the 
face  of  heaven — and  the  Eternal  himself  appealing  to 
it,  as  the  seal  of  a  gracious  covenant  and  a  pledge  of 
security  to  the  human  race!  On  the  one  hand,  may 
be  seen  the  ark  on  the  elevation  of  Mount  Ararath: 
on  the  other,  strewed  thick  and  sad,  the  mournful  re- 
mains of  those  who  had  perished  by  the  waters.  All 
is  silent — while  the  patriarch  adores  his  omnipotent 
Preserver;  and  presents  his  sacrifice,  with  the  mingled 
emotions  of  pity,  of  gratitude,  and  of  faith. 

— Of  PITY.  Could  he  view  the  scene  of  desola- 
tion around  him,  without  suffering  one  tear  of  com- 
passion to  fall?  Impossible!  And  well  might  a  patri- 
arch's bosom  entertain  this  divine  and  generous  prin- 
ciple, when  she  takes  up  her  residence,  a  welcome 
guest,  in  heaven!  She  throws  her  softest  tints  over 
14 


106 

those  blissful  regions,  without  impairing  either  their 
beauty  or  their  tranquillity;  and  sheds  her  sweetest 
balm  upon  their  inhabitants,  without  destroying  either 
their  happiness  or  their  repose.  Her  lily  is  interwoven 
with  the  roses  which  form  celestial  garlands;  and  her 
drops  of  compassion  mingle  with  the  tears  of  exqui- 
site delight,  which  glitter  in  immortal  eyes.  She  takes 
up  her  lasting  abode  in  the  bosom  of  the  Son  of  God. 
She  conducted  the  Savior  through  every  trying  scene 
which  he  witnessed  in  his  passage  through  this  valley 
of  tears.  "He  wept  with  those  that  wept;"  and  "in 
all  our  afflictions  he  was  afflicted."  She  accompani^ 
him  every  step  of  his  journey;  and  placed  her  chap- 
let  of  cypress  upon  his  conquering  head,  when  he  ex- 
pired on  Calvary.  In  proportion  as  we  possess  the 
spirit  of  Jesus,  we  shall  become  the  companions  of  pity. 
She  will  teach  us  to  bind  up  the  broken  heart:  to 
wipe  away  the  tear  from  the  eye  of  sorrow,  and  to 
pour  the  oil  and  the  wine  of  sympathy,  into  the  wound- 
ed bosom.  O  Religion!  how  have  thy  adversaries 
slandered  thee,  when  they  represent  thee,  as  harden- 
ing the  heart!  Christianity  instructs  us  to  "love  our 
enemies:"  teaches  those  to  weep,  who  never  wept  be- 
fore; softens  the  obdurate  spirit;  melts  down  the  fero- 
cious disposition;  controls  the  furious  passions;  quick- 
ens the  sensibilities  of  nature;  transforms  the  instru- 

.ts  of  cruelty,  into  implements  of  husbandry;  be- 
comes the  strongest,  and  most  permanent,  bond  of 
society;  and,  in  every  point  of  view,  meliorates  the 
condition  of  humanity. 

— Of  GRATITUDE.     As  the  patriarch  had  seen,  with 

<nv,  the  destruction  of  the  world,  he  was  preserved, 
ia  mercy,  to  behold  the  renovation  of  it.  His  conse- 
crated ark  had  floated  saiVly,  during  the  prevalence  of 


107 

the  waters;  and  now,  that  they  were  abated,  IK-  de- 
scended from  it,  upon  the  face  of  nature,  smiling,  as  u 
bride  newly  adorned.  He  received  from  HIM,  who 
is  the  Sovereign  Disposer  of  all  events,  a  promise,  that 
the  serene  sky  should  lower  no  more  to  destroy;  and 
that  the  hand  that  balanced  the  poles  of  heaven,  should 
roll  the  seasons  round  in  their  order.  "I  will  estab- 
lish my  covenant  with  you;  neither  shall  all  flesh  be 
cut  off  any  more  by  the  waters  of  a  flood."  "  While 
the  earth  remaineth,  seed-time  and  harvest,  cold  and 
heat,  and  summer  and  winter,  and  day  and  night,  shall 
qpt  cease."  With  the  distinction  which  had  been 
made  between  himself  and  his  family,  and  the  whole 
human  race,  in  a  moment  of  punishment  so  signal, 
fresh  in  his  memory;  and  with  these  words  of  mercy 
sounding  in  his  ears;  surely,  he  could  not  but  kneel 
before  his  altar  with  gratitude.  It  is  gratitude  which 
tunes  the  harps  of  heaven,  and  touches  them  with  the 
finger  of  harmony.  And  when  gratitude  was  extin- 
guished in  the  bosoms  of  "a  third  part"  of  the  sons  of 
God,  the  order  of  heaven  was  deranged,  the  harmony 
of  heaven  was  suspended,  the  symphonies  of  heaven 
were  silenced,  war  first  reared  his  hideous  form,  hell 
first  received  existence,  and  angels  became  demons. 
Nor  can  this  sacred  principle  be  annihilated  in  any 
bosom,  excepting  those  over  which  Satan  holds  undi- 
vided empire.  It  could  not,  therefore,  be  excluded  the 
heart  of  Noah. 

— Of  FAITH.  There  extended  the  seal  of  the  cove- 
nant over  the  retiring  cloud.  <4Ile  believed;  and  it  was 
counted  to  him  for  righteousness."  He  saw  the  fidel- 
ity of  God,  sparkling  in  the  brilliant  colors,  formed 
by  the  rays  of  the  sun,  falling  upon  the  descending 
shower.  And  did  he  not  look  forwards  to  HIM,  who 


108 

should  finally  remove  the  curse,  "plant  a  rain-bow* 
round  about  the  throne,"  and  "make  all  things  new?" 
Surely,  HE,  from  whom  a  new  world  was  to  spring? 
was  not  suffered  to  remain  ignorant  of  the  Redeemer 
of  fallen  man!  He  remembered  the  promise,  that  "the 
'Seed'  of  the  woman  should  bruise  the  head  of  the  ser- 
pent;" and  his  sacrifice  ascended  with  acceptance, 
because  he  beheld  in  the  type,  with  the  eye  of  faith, 
Jesus,  the  great  antitype. 

Did  Noah  find  acceptance  in  raising  an  altar  to  God, 
and  in  collecting  bis  family  around  it?  Every  good 
man  may  avail  himself  of  the  same  privilege,  enjoy 
the  same  intercourse,  and  find  the  same  acceptance. 
Every  Christian  family  will  have  an  altar  consecrated 
to  the  Deity;  before  which,  they  will  esteem  it  their 
duty,  their  privilege,  and  their  happiness,  to  bow;  and 
around  which,  they  will  assemble,  to  present  their 
morning  and  evening  sacrifice  of  prayer  and  thanks- 
giving. Permit  me  to  press  the  question.  Fathers  of 
families!  have  you  a  family  altar?  Do  you  statedly, 
and  constantly,  bring  your  children,  and  your  house- 
hold, to  a  throne  of  grace,  and  present  them  before 
God?  Do  you  mingle  your  praise,  and  your  supplica- 
tions, as  the  morning  pours  a  flood  of  light  upon  your 
habitation,  and  the  evening  stretches  her  shadows  over 
it?  No  "flaming  sword,  turning  every  way,"  guards 
from  access,  the  throne  of  God:  no  darkness,  and 
thunder,  forbid  your  near  approach.  A  voice,  from 
the  most  excellent  glory,  proclaims,  -'Draw  near,  with 
boldness,  to  the  throne  of  grace;  that  ye  may  obtain 
mercy,  and  find  ^race  to  lu-ip  in  time  of  need."  To 
this  invitation,  is  added  a  command: — "for  all  these 
things  I  iiv'//  he  iMitirutcd."  And  woe  to  the  man. 
who  lives  in  the  habitual  neglect  of  this  command,  and 


109 

keeps  his  household  back  from  God:  for  he  will  uj><v.ir 
out  his  fury  upon  the  nations  that  worship  him  not, 
and  upon  the  families  that  call  not  upon  his  name!" 

Noah  having  built  an  altar,  and  gratefully  surround- 
ed it  with  his  family,  received  the  divine  blessing  on 
himself  and  his  household.  Permission  was  granted 
to  man,  for  the  first  time,  to  eat,  not  only  the  produce 
of  the  ground,  but  flesh  also.  Then  also,  was  im- 
pressed upon  the  brute  creation,  that  fear  of  him, 
which  the  revolution  of  thousands  of  years  has  not 
been  able  to  efface.  "And  the  fear  of  you,  and  the 
dread  of  you,  shall  be  upon  every  beast  of  the  earth, 
and  upon  every  fowl  of  the  air,  upon  all  that  moveth 
upon  the  earth,  and  upon  all  the  fishes  of  the  sea;  into 
your  hand  are  they  delivered."  To  this  hour,  there 
are  few  among  the  beasts  of  prey  which  roam  the  for- 
est, that  will  not  avoid  the  sight  of  even  an  unarmed 
man:  unless  driven  to  desperation  by  hunger,  or  pro- 
voked to  madness  by  pursuit.  The  noble,  majestic 
lion,  loses  his  native  fierceness,  in  proportion  as  he 
dwells  near  human  habitations.  The  horse,  the  ox, 
the  elephant,  unconscious  of  their  strength,  are  easily 
disciplined,  and  freely  lend  their  powers,  to  serve  their 
more  feeble  master.  And  this  impress  of  God,  this 
fear  of  man,  remains  undiminished  to  the  present 
moment.  Upoi.  this  occasion,  also,  the  first  denun- 
ciation against  murder  was  issued.  " Whoso  sheddeth 
man's  blood,  by  man  shall  his  blood  be  shed:  for  in 
the  image  of  God  made  he  man."  This  solemn  insti- 
tution was  confirmed,  ratified,  and  enforced  in  the 
laws  of  Moses:  and  it  has  ever  formed  a  fundamental 
law,  in  all  civilized,  and  well-regulated  states. 

We  have  long  dwelt  with  pleasure  upon  Noah's 
piety:  we  are  now  to  unveil  his  weakness.  The  char- 


110 

acters  portrayed  in  this  volume  are  not  perfect  char- 
acters: otherwise  they  would  not  be  men;  neither 
would  the  history  of  their  pilgrimage  afford  any  solace 
to  us  in  this  vale  of  desertion  and  misery.  For,  alas! 
every  day  too  sadly  evinces  that  we  are  imperfect  char- 
acters; every  day  discloses  to  our  astonished  eyes,  some 
new  trait  of  ingratitude,  of  disobedience,  of  sloth,  and 
of  depravity.  It  would  be  no  consolation  to  us,  to  be 
informed,  that  God  is  now  preserving  their  "eyes  from 
tears/'  and  their  "feet  from  falling,"  for  ever.  "Ah, 
that  may  well  be  true" — would  be  our  answer — "for 
their  faith  was  always  in  lively  exercise:  their  hope 
was  never  shaken:  their  zeal  always  burned  with  in- 
extinguishable purity:  their  love  never  waxed  cold. 
No  difficulties  impeded  them:  no  enemies  vanquished 
them:  no  dangers  affrighted  them:  no  considerations 
deterred  them  from  running,  with  holy  alacrity,  the 
race  that  was  set  before  them.  'Therefore  are  they  be- 
fore the  throne  of  God,  and  serve  him  day  and  night 
in  his  temple:  and  HE,  that  sitteth  on  the  throne,  shall 
dwell  among  them.'  But  tee  are  ever  ready  to  turn 
aside.  At  best,  we  advance,  'faint,  yet  pursuing.' 
With  wavering  hopes,  and  a  trembling  faith;  with 
languishing  affections,  and  perplexing  fear;  we  hardly 
reach  forwards  to  our  home;  and  are  incessantly  ap- 
prehensive, lest  we  should  eventually  fall  short  of  it!" 
But  what,  if  we  should  prove  to  you,  that  these  were 
characters  imperfect  as  yourselves?  Many  spots  soiled 
their  white  raiment,  while  they  walked  through  this 
world:  many  blemishes  stain  their  memory.  V<7 
"are  they  hel'civ  the  throne  of  God,"  for  your  en- 
couragement; and  as  monuments  of  urs  mercy,  whose 
grace  shall  finally  make  you  more  than  conquerors 
over  your  corruptions,  and  your  enemies.  In  the 


Ill 

mean  time,  observe,  that  as  they  were  subject  to  your 
imperfections,  they  also,  while  upon  earth,  participated 
your  chastisements,  and  were  exposed  to  similar  ca- 
lamities with  yourselves Behold,  then,  this  great 

man,  this  good  man,  overtaken  by  the  sin  of  drunken- 
ness! On  this  occasion,  one  of  his  sons  forgot  that  filial 
sympathy  which  should  cover  a  parent's  imperfections, 
and  which  warmed  the  bosom  of  his  brethren:  in  con- 
sequence of  which,  Ham  drew  down  upon  himself, 
and  upon  his  family,  his  father's  curse;  while  a  bles- 
sing, soft  as  the  dew,  descended  upon  the  heads  of 
Shem  and  of  Japheth,  and  upon  their  posterity. 

At  length,  we  arrive  at  that  eventful  period,  which 
is  the  winding  up  of  the  longest  history:  "all  the  days 
of  Noah,  were  nine  hundred  and  fifty  years — and  he 
died!"  Six  hundred  years  of  his  life  were  passed  upon 
the  face  of  the  old  world;  and  three  hundred  and  fifty, 
he  walked  upon  the  ground  of  the  new  one.  Three 
hundred  and  sixty-five  days,  had  he  floated  upon  the 
surface  of  a  boundless  ocean:  rescued  with  his  family 
from  destruction;  and  bearing  with  him  this  testimony, 
"that  he  pleased  God."  This,  it  was,  that  encircled 
his  hoary  head  with  a  diadem  of  glory:  he  was  "found 
in  the  way  of  righteousness."  The  longest  life  is  but 
as  "yesterday,  when  it  is  passed:"  but  "Noah  walked 
with  God" — writh  that  Being,  whose  days  are  com- 
mensurate with  the  ages  of  eternity;  and  who  first 
provided  for  him,  and  afterwards  bestowed  upon 
him,  an  unfading  inheritance. 

When  the  sacred  writer  had  conducted  the  venera- 
ble patriarch  to  his  last,  peaceful  retreat — the  grave;  he 
favors  us  with  a  genealogy  of  his  descendants.  As 
his  history  particularly  concerned  the  Israelites,  he 
has  given  us  the  line  of  Shem  entire;  and  his  only. 


As  to  the  offspring  of  the  other  sons  of  Noah,  his  dc* 
sign  appears  to  have  been,  merely  to  bring  them  down 
to  the  dispersion  of  the  people;  in  order  to  leave  to 
posterity  the  names  of  the  first  founders  of  nations; 
and  then  to  dismiss  them.  Hence,  although  he  men- 
tions the  Canaanites,  as  a  people  with  whom  the  Isra- 
elites were  concerned,  yet  he  deduces  the  genealogy  of 
Ham  no  farther;  and  it  is  shorter  than  those  of  Cush 
and  Mizraim,by  one  generation. 

The  predictions  of  Noah  were  remarkably  fulfilled: 
but  to  unfold  the  various  events  in  correspondence 
with  them,  were,  of  itself,  the  labor  of  a  lecture;  and 
indeed  belongs  to  the  department  of  scriptural  prophe- 
cy. He  had  said,  "Cursed  be  Canaan,*  a  servant  of 
servants  shall  he  be  to  his  brethren."  This  was  ful- 
filled in  the  reduction  of  the  Canaanites,  the  immedi- 
ate descendants  of  Canaan,  by  the  Israelites,  the  pos- 
terity of  Shem.  It  was  again  fulfilled,  in  the  subju- 
gation of  the  Egyptians,  the  descendants  of  Ham;  both 
by  the  Persians,  the  posterity  of  Shem;  and  by  the 
Grecians,  the  offspring  of  Japheth.  Tyre  was  built 
by  the  Sidonians,  the  descendants  of  Ham;  and  was 
twice  subdued,  and  at  length  wholly  desolated,  by  the 
posterity  of  his  brethren.  The  (Carthaginians  were 
descendants  of  Ham:  the  Romans,  who  subdued  them, 
derived  their  line  from  Japheth.  The  whole  continent 
of  Africa,  was  peopled,  for  the  most  part,  by  the  chil- 
dren of  Ham:  it  is  become  the  mart  of  the  whole 
world  for  slavery;  and  the  Europeans,  the  oppressors 
of  this  wretched  people,  are  the  posterity  of  Japheth. 
The  blessing  pronounced  upon  Shem,  was,  "Blessed 
be  the  Lord  God  of  Shem:"  or  rather,  "Blessed  of  the 

•H  is  n  s'-iijrulurity  in  this  prophecy,  that  Ham  was  cursed  in  the  name 
•fh is  youngest  son,  C 


113 

Lord  my  God,  be  Shem;  and  Canaan  shall  be  his 
servant."  Shem  was  peculiarly  blessed  in  two  res- 
pects: the  Church  of  God  was  among  the  posterity  of 
Shem,  for  many  generations;  and  from  him,  "accord- 
ing to  the  flesh,"  the  Messiah  came Of  Japheth,  he 

said,  "God  shall  enlarge  Japheth."  All  Europe;  the 
lesser  Asia;  Media;  a  part  of  Armenia;  Iberia;  Alba- 
nia; the  wide  regions  of  the  North,  once  in  the  hands 
of  the  Scythians,  now  inhabited  by  the  Tartars;  India 
and  China;  and,  probably,  the  continent  of  America; 
are  the  possessions  of  Japheth.  Farther,  "He  shall 
dwell  in  the  tents  of  Shem."  This  seems  to  allude  to 
the  unions,  which  sometimes  took  place,  between  the 
posterity  of  these  brethren,  when  they  conjointly 
fought  against  the  descendants  of  Ham.  There  have 
been  some  exceptions,  when  the  descendants  of  Ham 
have  subdued  those  of  Shem,  and  of  Japheth;  but,  in 
general,  Ham  has  been  the  servant  of  his  brethren:  and 
it  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  the  four  grand  empires  of 
the  world,  the  Assyrian,  the  Persian,  the  Grecian,  and 
the  Roman,  descended,  the  two  former  from  Shem? 
and  the  two  latter  from  Japheth.* 

We  are  afterwards  introduced  to  Nimrod,  who  is 
called  "a  mighty  hunter  before  the  Lord."  Com- 
mentators have  been  greatly  divided  respecting  this 
extraordinary  personage:  since,  the  words  of  Moses 
may  be  taken  in  a  good  or  a  bad  sense.  There  is 
nothing  in  his  short  history,  bearing  the  least  reproach; 
except,  indeed,  his  name,  which  signifies  a  rebel. 
Enough,  however,  is  said  to  render  it  evident  that  he 
grasped  at  empire;  and  obtained  it.  Some  ascribe  to 
him  the  project  of  building  Babel;  which,  considering 

*See  JJewton  on    the    Prophecies;    vol.    i,    Dissertation  1. 
Prophecy^ 

15 


114 

his  enterprising  disposition,  so  far  as  we  can  judge  of 
it,  from  the  short  narrative  of  the  sacred  writer,  is  not 
improbable:  Others  say,  that  he  left  the  country,  be- 
cause he  would  not  consent  to  the  scheme;  which,  for 
the  reason  we  have  assigned,  we  do  not  think  at  all 
likely.  And  not  a  few  conclude,  that  he  was,  at  that 
period,  very  young. 

Having  passed  over  the  link  of  history  which  con- 
nects the  deluge  with  the  present  subject  of  discussion; 
we  hasten  to  the  immediate  object  of  our  meeting  at 
this  time:  to  consider  the  fact — THE  DESTRUCTION  OF 
BABEL;  connected  with  THE  CONFUSION  OF  LAN- 
GUAGE; and  THE  DISPERSION  OF  THE  PEOPLE;  and 
thence  to  trace,  THE  ORIGIN  OF  NATIONS.  We  shall  aim 
simply,  To  illustrate  and  establish  this  event;  and  to 
deduce  from  it  some  considerations  adapted  to  our 
individual  improvement.  We  shall  attempt, 

I.    TO    ILLUSTRATE,     AND    TO    ESTABLISH,   THE    EVENT. 

In  order  to  which,  it  will  be  necessary  to  consider 
(he  several  parts  of  the  history,  as  recorded  by  Moses; 
to  produce  the  testimony  of  other  ancient  writers;  and 
to  answer  some  inquiries  which  may  arise  from  the 
subject.  We  shall  consider, 

1.  TilE  SEVERAL  PARTS  OF  THE  HISTORY,  AS  RE- 
CORDED BY  MOSES. 

V.  1.  "And  the  tvhole  earth  tim-  of  one  language, 
and  of  one  speech.77  Speech  is  the  vehicle  of  commu- 
im-ution,  by  which  one  man  transmits  his  thoughts  to 
another:  nor  shall  we  burden  your  attention  in  tracing 
its  origin;  an  inquiry  which,  \vc  think,  would  lead  us 
up  to  God  himself.  We  take  it  for  granted,  without 
wasting  the  time  in  frivolous  discussion,  according  to 


the  literal  meaning  of  the  express  words  of  Moses. 
that  "the  whole  earth  was  of  one  language,  and  of 
one  speech."  But  it  may  be  expected,  that  something 
should  be  said,  respecting  the  primitive  tongue — this 
universal  language  spoken  by  our  fathers,  be/ore  the 
confusion  of  speech.  In  addition  to  those  languages, 
which  arc  commonly  known  by  the  title  Oriental, 
the  Armenian,  the  Celtic,  the  Coptic,  the  Greek,  the 
Teutonic,  and  the  Chinese,  demand  the  preference  on 
this  point.  The  Armenian,  the  Celtic,  and  the  Coptic, 
come  before  us  laden  with  the  venerable  marks  of 
hoary  antiquity;  and  the  former  builds  its  claim  upon 
the  resting  of  the  ark  on  its  mountains.  The  Greek 
appeals  to  its  extent  and  copiousness.  Some  have  at- 
tempted to  derive  the  Hebrew  itself  from  the  Teuton- 
ic. The  arguments  produced  in  favor  of  the  Chinese, 
are  principally,  the  antiquity  of  that  nation:  their  early 
acquaintance  with  the  arts  and  sciences:  their  separa- 
tion, in  all  ages,  from  ail  other  nations:  and  the  sin- 
gularity of  the  language  itself;  which  consists  of  few 
words,  all  monosyllables,  and  is  remarkable  for  its 
simplicity,  having  no  variety  of  declensions,  conjuga- 
tions, or  grammatical  rules.  These  singularities  have 
been  deemed  strong  marks  in  its  behalf,  as  the  original 
language:  besides  the  presumption  that  Noah  was  the 
founder  of  the  Chinese  nation.  Each  of  the  Oriental 
languages  have  strenuous  supporters;  but  the  palm  is 
more  generally  awarded  to  the  Syriac.  The  Jews 
warmly  defend  the  Hebrew  tongue;  and  refer  to  the 
etymologies  of  the  names  transmitted  to  us  by  Moses. 
In  some  instances  the  sacred  historian  himself  lias 
marked  their  propriety,  and  the  relation  which  they 
bear  to  the  person,  or  place  designed  by  them:  but 
there  are  others,  not  so  distinguished,  in  which  no 


116 

such  relation  can  be  traced;  and  the  question  to  be 
decided  is,  whether  he  has  preserved  the  original 
terms,  or,  according  to  the  practice  of  all  ancient  wri- 
ters, accommodated  them  to  the  dialect  of  the  lan- 
guage in  which  he  wrote?  The  most  probable  conclu- 
sion, from  this  endless  diversity  of  opinion,  is — either 
that  the  original  language  is  lost;  or  that  it  is  spoken 
under  variations  which  render  it  equivalent  to  a  new 
tongue;  or,  that,  even  supposing  it  to  exist,  it  cannot 
be  ascertained. 

V.  2.  "And  it  came  to  pass,  as  they  journeyed  from 
the  east,  f hat  they  found  a  plain  in  the  land  ofShinar; 
and  they  dwelt  there."  The  extent  and  situation  of 
the  land  of  Shinar,  is  not  easily  determined.  There, 
the  city  and  tower  of  Babel  were  erected.  Thither, 
Nebuchadnezzar  carried  away  the  vessels  of  the  tem- 
ple, to  the  house  of  his  god:  wThich,  in  all  probability, 
was  the  temple  of  Belus,  in  Babylon.  This  confirms 
the  general  opinion,  that  the  temple  of  Belus  was 
erected  upon  the  ruins  of  the  tower  of  Babel;  or,  at 
least,  that  Babylon  stood  upon,  or  near,  the  spot, 
where  this  vast  design  was  projected,  aj)d  partly  exe- 
cuted. The  part  of  Mesopotomia,  chosen  by  the 
astronomers,  in  the  time  of  the  Khalifah  al  Mamum, 
for  measuring  the  content  of  a  degree  of  a  great  circle, 
was  the  desert  of  Senjar;  the  nature  of  the  experiment 
required  the  selection  of  a  large  and  level  country;  and 
this  is  probably  a  part  of  the  ancient  plain  of  Shinar.* 
Upon  the  whole,  we  will  venturr  to  call  it  Chaldea. 

V.  3  and  4.  "And  they  said  one  to  another,  Go  to, 
let  us  make  brick  and  burn  them  Ihorougly.  And  thwj 

*  Anc.  Univ.  Hist.  vol.  I,  book  i,  clinp.  2.      Tim  rc:i«lcr  niny  find  much 

-iun,  on  :ill  ilic  points  utuliT  review  in  lliis  part  of  llur 
, in  that  laboxicus  \voik. 


117 

X 

had  brick  for  stone,  and  slime  had  they  for  mwicti 
And  they  said,  Go  to,  let  us  build  us  a  city  and  a 
tower,  whose  top  may  reach  unto  heaven;  and  let  us 
make  us  a  name  lest  we  be  scattered  abroad  upon  Ihc 
face  of  the  whole  earth."  It  has  been  imagined  by 
some,  that  this  elevation  was  reared  in  fear  of  a  second, 
deluge:  we  deem  this  improbable,  from  their  choice  of 
situation,  and  because  other,  and  sufficient,  motives, 
are  assigned  in  the  history.  The  celebrated  and  elo- 
quent Saurin  says:  "The  impressions  which  the  waters 
of  the  deluge  had  made  upon  the  imagination  of  Noah, 
and  of  his  family,  caused  them  to  live  in  places  the 
most  elevated,  and  the  least  accessible  to  inundations. 
They  dwelt  upon  the  mountains  of  Armenia,  in  the 
neighborhood  of  that  place  where  the  ark  rested.  But 
an  hundred  and  forty  four  years  afterwards;  according 
to  the  computation  of  one  of  the  most  celebrated  chro- 
nologists;  these  fears  were  entirely  dispersed:  they  dif- 
fused themselves  over  the  vallies  and  the  fields;  and 
occupied  the  plains  of  Chaldea,  or  of  Babylon."*  Had 
they  designed  this  tower  as  a  bulwark  against  a  second 
deluge,  they  would  have  chosen  an  elevated  country 
rather  than  a  plain.  Two  reasons  are  assigned,  in 
their  consultation,  for  this  project: 

1.  That  they  might  make  themselves  a  name:  that 
they  might  leave  a  memorial  behind  them.  The  de- 
sire of  living  in  the  remembrance  of  posterity,  and  of 
securing  an  immortal  renown,  has  burnt  with  inextin- 
guishable ardor,  in  the  human  bosom,  in  every  age. 
Absalom  &et  up  for  himself  a  pillar;  because  he  had 
"no  son"  to  "keep  his  name  in  remembrance."  The 
principle  which  laid  the  foundation  of  the  tower  of 

*  Saur.  Disconrs.  &.c.    Sur  la  Bible,  Sum.  I.     Disc,  x,  p  65 


118 

Babel,  raised  the  lofty  pyramids  of  Egypt;  iias  reared 
many  a  proud  city;  and,  more  than  once,  has  turned 
the  world  into  "a  field  of  blood." 

2.  That  they  might  not  be  dispersed:  "lest  we  be 
scattered  abroad  upon  the  face  of  the  whole  earth:" 
Their  project  to  live  together,  opposed  the  manifest 
design  of  Deity,  that  the  whole  earth  should  be  speedily 
peopled.  Some  have  translated  the  words — <4Let  us 
make  us  a  sign,  lest  we  be  scattered;"  and  conclude 
that  they  intended  this  tower  to  serve  as  a  beacon,  or 
mark,  by  the  direction  of  which,  they  might  avoid 
straying  with  their  flocks,  (for  the  first  men  were  shep- 
herds) and  regain  the  city,  which  they  had  chosen  for 
their  residence,  after  the  temporary  wanderings  requir- 
ed by  their  occupations.  The  result  of  their  consul- 
tations, whatever  were  their  motives,  was  the  com- 
mencement of  that  stupendous  work — the  tower  of 
Babel. 

Respecting  the  tower  itself,  Moses  informs  us,  that 
"they  used  brick  instead  of  stone,  and  slime  instead  of 
mortar."  This  slime  was  a  pitchy  substance,  called 
bitumen,  which  abounded  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Babylon;  and,  forming  a  strong  cement,  was  admira- 
bly adapted  to  their  purpose.  It  is  universally  admit- 
ted, that  the  tower  had  its  ascent  on  the  outside — a 
broad  road  gradually  winding  round  it:  of  course, 
the  tower  itself  grew  proportionably  narrow  as  it  in- 
.-ed  in  height,  and  assumed  a  spiral  form.  If  you 
imagine  a  path,  winding  round  the  representations 
which  are  made  of  the  pyramids  of  Egypt,  you  will 
form  a  complete  idea,  of  the  general  description  trans- 
mitted to  us  of  the  tower  of  Babel. 

V.  5 — 9.  "And  the  LORD  came  dmvn  to  see  the 
and  the  tower,  which  the  children  of  men  builded. 


119 

And  the  'Lonvsaid,  Behold,  the  people  is  one,  and  they 
have  all  one  language;  and  this  they  begin  to  do: 
and  now  nothing  will  be  restrained  from  them  which 
they  have  imagined  to  do.  Go  to,  let  us  go  down^ 
and  there  confound  their  language,  that  they  may  not 
understand  one  another's  speech.  So  the  LORD  scat- 
tered  them  abroad  from  thence  upon  the  face  of  all  the 
earth:  and  they  left  off  to  build  the  city.  Therefore 
is  the  name  of  it  called  Babel;  because  the  LORD  did 
there  confound  the  language  of  all  the  earth:  and 
from  thence  did  the  LORD  scatter  them  abroad  upon 
'the  face  of  all  the  earth"  There  is  a  merciful  con- 
descension to  be  perceived  in  all  parts  of  the  sacred 
writings,  in  stooping  to  our  conceptions,  by  the  use  of 
familiar  terms,  and  of  language  continually  on  our 
own  lips.  Had  the  inspired  penmen  been  commis- 
sioned, at  all  times,  to  represent  things  as  they  really 
are,  we  should  have  derived  no  benefit  from  their 
communications:  we  should  have  had  words,  but  not 
ideas:  we  should  have  been  incessantly  floating  on  the 
surface  of  uncertainty,  bewildered  and  lost,  in  the  lof- 
tiness of  the  subject.  But  God  speaks  to  us,  as  though 
he  were  "bone  of  our  bone,  and  flesh  of  our  flesh:"  he 
enters  into  all  our  passions:  he  uses  our  language:  he 
brings  down  heavenly  subjects  to  the  standard  of  our 
comprehension.  In  travelling  through  the  land  of  scrip- 
ture discovery,  we  are  at  home;  we  are  surrounded  by 
objects,and  encompassed  with  imagery,  perfectly  famil- 
iar to  us;  and  "a  wayfaring  man,  though  a  fool,  cannot 
err  therein."  The  consequence  is,  that  this  volume  is 
found  to  speak  to  the  heart:  it  "approves  itself  to  ev- 
ery man's  conscience:"  it  possesses  an  irresistible  influ- 
ence over  his  life,  while  it  descends  to  the  level  of  his 
understanding.  Because  we  have  no  conception  of 


120 

pure  spirit — spirit  distinct  from  matter — or  of  its  pow* 
crs — or  of  its  agency — or  of  its  operations — the  Deity 
is  represented  as  acting  like  a  man.  We  read  of  his 
penetrating  eye;  his  powerful  hand;  his  majestic  voice; 
his  trackless  footsteps;  his  melting  bowels;  his  com- 
passionate heart.  He  is  angry:  he  relents:  he  loves: 
he  entreats.  He  ascends  and  descends;  he  rides  upon 
the  clouds;  he  walks  through  the  earth.  He  is  a  father 
— and  he  has  a  father's  heart.  He  manifests  paternal 
anxiety — paternal  affection-paternal  superintendence- 
paternal  displeasure — paternal  forgiveness.  Every  one 
feels  the  force  of  the  image;  every  one  sees  in  himself 
the  ungrateful,  perverse  child;  every  one  understands) 
his  relation  to  God,  and  acknowledges  the  obligations 
under  which  he  is  laid  to  him.  The  imagery  renders 
every  thing  luminous:  while  the  representation  of  facts 
as  they  are — a  Being  without  passions,  and  without 
any  resemblance  to  any  one  object  with  which  we  are 
acquainted — would  overwhelm  the  mind  with  perplex- 
ity, and  overshadow  the  subject  with  impenetrable 
darkness.  Of  the  class  described,  is  the  passage  before 
us:  in  it  are  many  bold  figures  of  speech;  fop  the  Eter- 
nal fills  all  space  with  his  presence,  and  can  neither 
ascend  nor  descend;  and  when  such  language  is  used, 
it  is  in  accommodation  to  our  conceptions,  and  to  our 
modes  of  speaking. 

The  work  was  displeasing  to  God;  and  the  source 
of  his  displeasure  was,  that  it  opposed  his  express  com- 
mand, "replenish  the  earth:"  which  could  not  be  done 
while  they  continued  in  one  place.  In  order  to  scat- 
ter them  abroad,  he  compelled  them  to  relinquish 
their  project,  by  confounding  their  language:  from 
which  circumstance,  the  city  and  tower  took  the 
i)f  IhibcL  which  signifies 


121 

THE  CONFUSION  OF  LANGUAGE,  became  the  means 
of  the  DESTRUCTION  OF  BABEL:  and  from  its  import- 
ance and  consequences,  is  an  event  worthy  the  place 
which  it  occupies,  in  the  Mosaic  history.     As  to  the 
manner  in  which  it  was  effected,  as  in  every  subject 
so  remote  and  undetermined  by  the  historian  himself, 
there  is  a  diversity  of  sentiment.     Some  suppose  that 
the  words  only  imply  a  misunderstanding  among  the 
builders;  and  that  he  set  them  at  variance,  by  causing 
a  division  of  counsel.     Others  understand  by  them  a 
temporary  confusion  of  speech;  causing  them  to  mis- 
apply terms,  and  misconceive  each  other  in  the  use  of 
the  same  language.     Others  are  of  opinion,  that  a  va- 
riety of  inflexions  were  introduced,  and  perhaps  some 
new  words;  which  disturbed  and  perverted  the  former 
manner  of  expression.  But  the  plain  and  express  terms 
of  the  history  go  beyond  these  hypotheses;  it  is  evident 
that  the  inspired  historian  designs  to  exhibit  a  com- 
plete confusion  of  tongues;  which  will  account  for  the 
endless  diversity  of  languages,  and  the  source  of  the 
division  of  mankind  into  different  and  distinct  nations. 
There  are  languages  which  have  no  visible  connexion 
with  any  other  tongue  whatever;  and  the  Chinese  is 
an  exemplification  of  our  assertion.    This  could  never 
have  been,  had  the  confusion  consisted  of  a  mere  va- 
riation of  dialect;  and  we  wish  it  to  be  understood,  as 
our  decided  opinion,  that  at  the  destruction  of  Babel ., 
new  languages  were  framed;  and  this  by  the  miracu- 
lous and  immediate  interposition  of  divine  power. 

THE  DISPERSION  OF  THE  PEOPLE,  which  followed,  we 
do  not  imagine  was  a  disorganization  of  the  whole 
mass  of  mankind,  as  a  tempest  terrifies  and  scatters 
a  multitude:  but  simply  "a  division  of  them;  as  at  the 
quiet  Reparation  of  an  orderly  assembly,  every 
18 


122 

fells  into  his  respective  party  and  seeks  his  home.  Ev- 
ery man  it  is  probable,  betook  himself  to  the  company 
that  spake  his  own  new  language;  and  consented,  with 
them  to  separate  from  others.  We  think  that  this  is  im- 
plied by  the  language  which  Moses  adopts  in  speak- 
ing of  the  division  of  the  earth  by  the  several  bands. 
Of  the  sons  of  Japheth,  it  is  said — "By  these,  were 
the  isles  of  the  Gentiles  divided."  Respecting  the  de- 
scendants of  Ham,  he  concludes,  ''These  are  the  sons 
of  Ham,  after  their  families,  after  their  tongues,  in  their 
countries,  in  their  nations;"  unquestionably  referring 
to  their  situation  after  their  dispersion.  The  same 
language  is  used  in  relation  to  Shem.  Nothing  here 
wears  the  appearance  of  hurry  and  disorder;  on  the 
contrary,  the  inference  appears  to  us  to  be,  that  the 
dispersion  of  the  people  was  regular,  and  the  division 
of  the  earth  performed  without  confusion. 

With  respect  to  THE  ORIGIN  OF  NATIONS,  at  this  dis- 
tance of  time  from  the  great  event,  little  can  be  said 
with  certainty.  A  mere  outline  of  the  larger  divisions  can 
only  be  made;  and  this,  with  scarcely  any  degree  of  pre- 
cision. SiiEM,appears  for  the  remainder  of  his  days,to  have 
hovered  about  the  plains  of  Shinar.  From  his  descend- 
ants sprang  the  inhabitants  of  Persia,*  Nineveh,  t  China  J 
Mesopotamia,  and  Phrygia;  comprehending  the  coun- 
tries westward  cf  Assyria,  as  far  as  the  Mediterranean. || 
HAM,  probably,  dwelt  in  Egypt.  His  descendants  oc- 
cupied Shinar,§  Arabia,!  Ethiopia,**  Africa,tt  Phe- 
nicia,  and  the  land  of  Canaan. *  J  When  JAPIIKTH 
left  Babel,  it  is  uncertain  where  he  settled.  His  de- 

*  From  LI  am-  f  From  Ashur-  \   From  Arphaxad. 

}]   From  Aram-  $  From  JV.  w..-  II  F.-om  dish. 

••    From  Mi?.rt,in:.        }  .ut.  H  From  Canaan. 


123 

scendants  dwelt  in  Phrygia,*  the  eastern  part  of  Asia 
Minor,  f  Cappadocia,  and  Galatia.J  Most  of  these 
divisions,  after  all,  must  be  considered  as  conjectur- 
al. §  So  far  we  have  followed  the  Mosaic  history: 
we  shall  produce, 

2.    THE  TESTIMONY    OF    OTHER     ANTIENT   WRITERS, 

The  confusion  of  tongues  "is  mentioned  by  profane 
historians,  who  write,  that  mankind  used  the  same 
language  till  the  "overthrow  of  the  tower  of  Baby- 
lon."||  The  fable  of  the  attempt  of  the  giants  to  climb 
the  heavens;  probably  owes  its  origin  to  some  tradi- 
tions relative  to  this  fact.  It  was  a  common  mode  of 
speaking  in  many  nations  and  in  the  East  especially, 
when  things  exceeded  the  ordinary  height  to  say, 
that  c'they  reached  to  heaven. H  When,  therefore,  it  was 
said,  uLet  us  build  a  city,  and  a  tower,  whose  top  may 
reach  to  heaven,"  no  more  was  intended,  than  Let  us 
build  a  tower  exceedingly  high."  But  when  the  de* 
sign  descended,  by  tradition,  in  its  native  boldness  of 
expression,  to  nations  unacquainted  with  the  Mosaic 
history,  and  with  eastern  language;  who  were,  also, 
fond  of  the  marvellous,  and  skilful  in  fable;  they  rais- 
ed the  story  of  the  giants'  war  with  heaven,  and  cele- 
brated this  imaginary  contest  in  verse,  as  harmonious 
as  majestic.**  Josephus  quotes  one  of  the  Sybils,  in 
the  following  words:  "When  all  mankind  spoke  the 
same  language,  some  of  them  elevated  a  tower  im- 
mensely high,  as  if  they  would  ascend  up  into  heaven, 
but  the  gods  sent  a  wind,  and  overthrow  the  tower; 

*  From  Corner.  t  From  Ashkenaz-  \  From  Togarmah. 

§  See,  on  this  perplexed  subject,  the  laborious  researches  of  ihe  wri- 
ters of  the  Anc.  Univ.  Hist.  vol.  i,  book  5,  chap.  2,  §6. 

||    Anc.  Univ.  Hist.  vol.  i,  book  i,  chap.  2,  §5,  p.  439. 

^  Consult  Homer,  in  various  places;  and  read  Deut.  i,  28,  also  ix,  1. 

**  Homer,  Odys.  30.     Ovid.  Met.  lib.  5-    Virg.  Georg-.  i,  &c-     See 
note  2,  at  the  end  of  the  volume. 


124 

and  assigned  to  each  a  particular  language;  and  hence 
the  city  of  Babylon  derived  its  name."*  Abydenus 
uses  similar  language:  "There  are,  who  relate  that  the 
first  men,  born  of  the  earth,  when  they  grew  proud  of 
their  strength  and  stature,  supposing  that  they  were 
more  excellent  than  the  gods,  wickedly  attempted  to 
build  a  tower,  where  Babylon  now  stands.  But,  the 
work  advancing  towards  heaven,  was  overthrown,  up- 
on the  builders,  by  the  gods,  with  the  assistance  of  the 
winds;  and  the  name  Babylon  was  imposed  upon  the 
ruins.  Till  that  period,  men  were  of  one  language: 
but  then,  the  gods  sent  among  them  a  diversity  of 
tongues.  And  then  commenced  the  war  between  Sat- 
urn and  Titan."t  Before  we  dismiss  this  part  of  the 
subject,  we  will  only  add,  that  "it  is  a  false  tradition  of 
the  Greeks  that  Babylon  was  built  by  Semiramis;  and 
this  error  is  refuted  by  Berosus,  in  his  Chaldaics,  Jo- 
sephus  in  his  first  book  against  Appion,"  and  others.]: 
It  remains,  that  we  attempt, 

3.      To   ANSWER    SOME   INQUIRIES    ARISING   OUT    OF 
IIIF,    SUBJECT. 

Was  there  any  thing  criminal  in  the  attempt  to  build 
this  city  and  tower,  considered  in  itself?  We  feel  no, 
hesitation  in  answering — No.  But  a  thing  perfectly 
lawful,  and  innocent  in  itself,  may  become  criminal 
from  the  motives  in  which  it  originates,  or  the  conse- 
quences connected  with  it.  There  were  two  ways  in 
which  this  attempt,  harmless  in  itself,  was  rendered 
criminal.  First,  the  foundation  of  the  work  was  laid 
in  ambition*  And  what  is  ambition,  but  another  name 
for  every  complicated  vice  which  degrades  humanity, 

"   Sec  Joseph,  de  Anlirj   Jud.  Lib.  i,  cap.  4,  Tom.  i,  Hud.cdt. 
f  See  note  4,  ut  ilie  end  of  this  volume. 
*  See  note  5,  at  the  end  of  this  volume. 


an:l  fills  the  world  with  sorrow?  What  so  soon  erases 
human  feelings,  as  ambition?  What  so  hardens  the 
heart  against  the  voice  of  woe,  as  ambition?  What 
violates  the  sanctity  of  truth,  and  disregards  principles 
usually  deemed  sacred  in  society,  with  such  facility,  as 
ambition?  What  so  completely  transforms  the  char- 
acter, as  ambition?  What  so  readily  leads  the  bosom 
astray,  as  ambition?  What  peoples  the  grave,  like 
ambition?  How  early  it  began  to  work  in  the  world! 
and  how  unceasing  and  unimpaired  has  its  influence 
continued!  ;'Let  us  make  us  a  name!"'  was  the  hope 
that  deluded  these  first  men;  and  many  a  subsequent 
projector,  on  the  same  vain  principle,  has  built  a  Babel 
to  his  own  confusion!  And  what  heart  is  altogether 
dead  to  the  passion?  It  was  criminal,  secondly  and 
principally,  we  presume,  because  it  had  a  tendency  to 
counteract  the  designs  of  God:  which  designs  had  been 
explicitly  communicated.  The  mandate  of  heaven  is, 
"Be  fruitful,  and  multiply,  and  replenish  the  earth." 
This  required  them  to  spread  themselves  abroad  upon 
its  surface.  But  they  deliberately  and  avowedly  adopt 
a  contrary  resolution;  and  "build  a  city  and  a  tower, 
lest"  they  should  "be  scattered  abroad  upon  the  face 
of  the  whole  earth." 

Would  not  men,  by  degrees,  have  separated  with- 
out the  alteration  of  language?  It  is  very  probable, 
that  ambitious  projects,  in  which  they  might  not  all 
concur,  would  have  effected  a  separation:  but  in  such  a 
case,  we  can  scarcely  imagine,  that  such  a  division 
would  take  place  without  bloodshed.  By  the  int^r- 
position  of  heaven,  they  separated  peaceably.  Besides 
time  would  slowly  have  brought  that  to  pass,  which 
God  accomplished  at  once;  and  had  it  been  left  to  op- 
erations so  gradual,  the  replenishing  of  the  earth  had 


126 

been  greatly  retarded.  Not  to  say  that  without  a  dis- 
sonance of  language,  to  a  great  degree  the  divisions  of 
nations  would  have  been  lost;  and  they  would,  prob- 
ably, have  blended  again  together.  To  this  hour,  lan- 
guage is  the  strongest  line  of  separation  drawn  between 
man  and  man;  and  one  of  the  most  powerful  bulwarks 
of  the  distinction  subsisting  between  different  nations. 

o 

Would  not  language  of  itself  have  changed,  as  the 
people  multiplied,  without  the  interposition  of  Divine 
power?  Of  this,  there  can  be  no  question:  but  in  this 
case,  it  would  only  be  a  change  of  dialect,  and  not  of 
language.  In  the  revolution  of  a  few  centuries,  what 
alterations  have  been  made  in  our  own  tongue!  Roll 
back  but  three  or  four  hundred  years,  and  we  feel 
ourselves  incapable  of  reading  the  dialect  which  our 
forefathers  spoke.  Yet  rude  and  barbarous  as  it  ap- 
pears, in  it  may  be  traced  the  basis  of  our  present  co- 
pious language.  And,  estimating  the  changes  which 
time  would  have  made,  they  will  be  found  too  grad- 
ual to  have  effected  any  separation.  The  alterations 
produced  by  years,  are  small,  and  slowly  brought 
about:  they  consist,  in  changing  a  few  words  in  the 
course  of  a  century:  forming  a  few  others;  and 
dropping,  as  obsolete,  an  inconsiderable  number  be- 
fore in  use.  This  effects  no  division  in  a  nation; 
and  the  same  progression  would  have  brought  about 
none  in  the  great  body  of  mankind.  Generation 
after  generation  would  have  passed,  while  the  most 
trling  changes  were  forming.  No  motives  would 
h'.-v'e  been  furnished  for  their  living  apart:  no  neces- 
sity would  have  arisen,  from  this  quarter,  for  their  dis- 
persion. But  Deity  interposed,  to  effect  his  own  pur- 
pose; which  was  readily  and  completely  accomplished 
by  the  confusion  of  language.  We  hasten, 


127 


II.     TO   DEDUCE   FROM   THIS    FACT,    SOME     CONSIDERA- 
TIONS   ADAPTED  TO  OUR  INDIVIDUAL  IMPROVEMENT. 

The  prophet,  whose  words,  at  the  commencement 
of  the  Lecture,  we  connected  with  the  Mosaic  history, 
has  furnished  us  with  a  thread  of  reflection,  which  can- 
not fail  to  conduct  us  to  the  right  use  which  .we  ought 
to  make  of  this  singular  narrative.  He  has  pronoun- 
ced the  application  of  the  subject.  "The  pride  of  thine 
heart  hath  deceived  thee,  thou  that  dwelleth  in  the 
clefts  of  the  rock,  whose  habitation  is  high;  that  saith 
in  his  heart,  who  shall  bring  me  down  to  the  ground? 
Though  thou  exalt  thyself  as  the  eagle,  and  though 
thou  set  thy  nest  among  the  stars,  thence  will  I  bring 
thee  down  saith  the  LORD!"  Had  he  stood  by  and 
seen  the  project  of  these  men,  in  its  proud  advance, 
and  in  its  disastrous  issue,  he  could  not  have  painted 
their  presumption,  their  folly,  and  their  humiliation,  in 
more  striking  language.  -  The  following  remarks  ap- 
pear clearly  deducible  from  these  words: 

1.  MOST  OF  OUR  ERRORS  ORIGINATE  IN  THE  "PRIDE 
OF  OUR  HEARTS;"  AND  THIS  PRIDE  WILL  ALWAYS  BE 
FOUND  TO  HAVE  "DECEIVED"  US. 

It  was  this  pride  that  dictated  the  haughty  language 
of  the  king  of  Babylon,  when,  from  the  battlements  of 
his  palace,  he  looked  down  upon  his  beautiful  city, 
and  said — "Is  not  this  great  Babylon,  that  I  have 
built  for  the  house  of  the  kingdom,  by  the  might  of 
my  power,  and  for  the  honor  of  my  majesty?"  O,  how 
the  upride  of  his  heart  deceived"  him!  ''While  the 
word  .was  in  the  king's  mouth,  there  fell  a  voice  from 
heaven,  saying,  O  king  Nebuchadnezzar,  to  thee  it  is 
spoken;  the  kingdom  is  departed  from  thee!''  The 


128 

usame  hour"  was  he  "driven  from  men,"  and  his 
"dwelling  was  with  the  beasts  of  the  field:"  his  reason 
was  withdrawn, — "and  his  body  was  wet  with  the 
dew  of  heaven."  Behold,  he  that  would  be  thought  a 
God,  is  become  less  than  a  man!  Nor  were  the  balan- 
ces of  power  again  put  into  his  hand,  till  he  had  been 
brought  te  confess,  "that  the  Most  High  ruleth  in  the 
kingdom  of  men,  and  giveth  it  to  whomsoever  he 
will;"  and  to  acknowledge,  in  a  repentant  decree,  that 
"those  who  walk  in  pride,  he  is  able  to  abase." 

Happy  had  it  been  for  his  successor,  if  this  awful 
display  of  divine  justice,  had  wrought  in  his  heart, 
obedience.  But  Belshazzar  learned  not  wisdom  from 
his  grandfather's  humiliation.  He  exceeded  his  great 
progenitor  in  impiety.  He  stood  on  the  pinnacle  of 
empire,  till  he  was  giddy  with  gazing  upon  the  rolling 
world  beneath  him!  The  forces  of  Cyrus  surrounded 
the  city:  but,  trusting  in  its  impregnable  strength,  the 
defence  of  the  river,  and  the  greatness  of  his  stores,  he 
laughed  his  enemies  to  scorn.  The  feast  was  spread, 
and  the  revellings  had  commenced.  Death  hovered 
round  his  court,  and  destruction  brooded  over  his  city, 
while  he  was  sunk  in  senseless  security.  And  now, 
the  voice  of  joy,  and  the  noise  of  riot,  resound  through 
the  palace.  The  monarch  calls  upon  his  nobles  to 
devote  the  hours  to  gaiety;  to  scatter  their  fears  to  the 
winds;  to  drink  defiance  to  the  warrior  advancing  to 
their  very  gates;  and,  to  fill  the  measure  of  his  iniqui- 
ty, to  add  insult  to  the  miseries  of  his  captives,  to 
crown  dissipation  with  sacrilege,  he  requires,  last  of  all, 
the  vessels  of  the  sanctuary,  that  they  might  he  profan- 
ed by  their  application  to  not  merely  common -uses, 
but  tu  tli"  vile  purposes  of  debaucheiy.  it  is  done. 
The  king  is  lost  in  unbounded  pleasure,  and  intoxicat- 


129 

ed  with  unlimited  power.  In  one  moment,  the  voice 
of  riot  ceases, — silence,  as  profound  as  the  stillness  of 
the  grave,  reigns  through  the  whole  palace — every 
tongue  is  chained — every  eye  is  fixed — despair  lowers 
on  every  countenance — the  charm  is  broken — and  the 
night  of  feasting  is  turned  into  unutterable  horror!  See! 
yonder  shadow,  wearing  the  appearance  of  the  fingers 
of  a  man's  hand,  glides  along  the  wall  of  the  palace 
opposite  the  monarch,  arid  writes,  in  mysterious  char- 
acters, '-MENE,  MENE,  TEKEL,,  UPHARSIN."  What  has 
changed  that  youthful  countenance?  What  has  chased 
its  bloom  of  beauty,  and  drawn  on  it  the  strong  lines 
of  misery?  Behold,  this  king,  who  lately  dreamed  that 
he  was  more  than  mortal,  trembling  on  his  throne! 
"The  joints  of  his  loins  are  loosed,  and  his  knees  smite 
one  against  another!"  What  the  army  of  Cyrus  could 
not  do,  a  supernatural  hand,  writing  four  little  words, 
has  effected;  and  his  soul  melts  within  him  through 
terror!  But  say,  what  is  the  cause  of  this  premature 
distress?  Perhaps  yonder  inscription  declares  the  per- 
manence of  his  kingdom;  and  inscribes,  in  those  hidden 
characters,  the  destruction  of  his  enemies?  Ah  no! — 
Conscience  read  to  well  the  handwriting:  and  inter- 
preted the  solemn  sentence  of  impending  ruin,  long 
before  Daniel  explained  the  inscription!  While  all  was 
riot,  during  the  first  part  of  the  night,  and  dismay, 
during  the  remainder,  Cyrus  had  diverted  the  river 
from  its  course,  had  entered  the  city,  through  its  ex- 
hausted channel,  unperceived  and  was  now  at  the 
palace  gates.  The  empire  was  lost;  the  captive  Jews 
were  liberated:  and  "that  same  night  was  Belshazzar, 
the  king  of  the  Chaldeans,  slain."  Behold  another, 
added  to  the  innumerable  sad  evidences,  that  the 
17 


130 

'•pride  of  the   heart"  fatally  "deceives,"  and  finally 
ruins  those  who  cherish  it. 

2.  SITUATIONS  IN  LIFE,  WHICH  SHOULD  LAY  THE 
FOUNDATION  OF  GRATITUDE,  WHEN  UNSANCTIFIED, 
BECOME  THE  BASIS  OF  REBELLION. 

The  prophet  addressed  those  "who  dwelt  in  the 
clefts  of  the  rock,  and  whose  habitation  was  high:" 
who  enjoyed  both  an  elevated,  and  a  secure  situation. 
This  should  have  ministered  to  thankfulness:  it  should 
have  reminded  them  of  the  hand  that  raised  them  to 
the  eminence  which  they  occupied.  But  no:  it  kin- 
dled "pride  of  heart:"  it  inflamed  the  imagination  with 
the  desire  of  independence:  it  stirred  up  rebellion:  it 
implanted  in  their  bosoms  false  confidence:  it  betray- 
ed them  to  their  ruin.  They  said,  "Who  shall  bring; 
me  to  the  ground?"  But  the  birth  of  their  presump- 
tion was  the  death  of  their  security:  for  while  they 
spake  these  "great  swelling  words"  of  arrogance,  the 
protection  of  God  was  withdrawn.  Adversity  has 
"slain  its  thousands:"  but  prosperity  its  "tens  of  thou- 
sands." Those  that  have  weathered  the  tempests  of 
suffering,  have  been  ingulfed  in  the  whirlpool  of  dissi- 
pation. Elevation  makes  the  head  unsteady  and  the 
feet  totter;  therefore,  if  providence  exalt  you,  hold  fast 
the  hand  which  conducts  you  to  the  perilous  summit. 

.').    No   SITUATION    IN    LIFE,  HOWEVER    APPARENTLY 
n>KTIFIFJ>,  IS  SECURE,  WHEN    GOD  IS  OUR    KNKMY. 

"Though  thou  exalt  thyself  as  the  eagle,  and  though 
thou  set  thy  nest  among  the  stars,  thence  will  I  bring 
down,  saith  the  Lord."      How  clear  and  express 
arc  these  words!  "Though  thou  exalt  thyxijf."  When 
God  elevates  a  man,  he  gives  him.  jiml   to    his 

temptations:  but  there  arc,  who  makr  haste  to  be  rich 
— who  press  through  every  consideration  to   power — 


131 

who  willbe  great — and  "exalt  themselves"  at  the  sacri- 
fice of  every  principle.  Yonder  city  rises  on  that  de- 
termination. The  tower  rapidly  advances.  It  is  of 
prodigious  strength  and  magnitude.  But  its  desolation 
is  decreed  in  heaven;  and  although  it  aspired  to  the 
stars,  it  is  brought  down  to  the  ground.  Let  us,  there- 
fore, stoop  to  rise.  Let  us  "humble  ourselves  under  the 
mighty  hand  of  God;  and  he  shall  exalt  us  in  due 
time."  If  we  would  build  securely,  we  must  lay  the 
foundation  of  jour  edifice  on  the  top  of  yonder  ever- 
lasting  hills,  and  set  up  its  walls  in  the  unchangeable 
heavens:  for 

"He  builds  too  low,  who  builds  beneath  the  skies!" 

What,  then,  is  their  state,  who  are  laboring  to  as- 
cend to  heaven  by  a  superstructure  of  their  own  ele- 
vation? who  "reject  the  righteousness  of  God,  and  go 
about  to  establish  one  of  their  own?" — "The  pride  of 
their  heart  hath  deceived  them;"  and  divine  agency 
alone  can  destroy  the  delusion.  What  shall  be  said 
to  those  who  imagine  themselves  in  security,  yet  have 
not  "fled  for  refuge  to  lay  hold  upon  the  hope  set  be- 
fore them?"  Even  now  is  the  decree  of  heaven  gone 
forth  against  all  ungodliness:  even  now  is  the  sentence 
of  condemnation  issued  against  the  impenitent:  even 
now  conscience  thunders,  "Thou  art  weighed  in  the 
balances  and  art  found  wanting!" — and  Qod  confirms 
the  decision! 


LECTURE  V. 

THE  DESTRUCTION  OF  SODOM  AND  GOMORRAH. 
GENESIS    XIX,    15 26, 

And  tt?/?e?z  the  morning  arose,  then  the  angels  hastened 
Lot,  saying.  Arise,  lake  thy  tt'j/e,  and  thy  two  daugh- 
ters, which  are  here;  lest  thou  be  consumed  in  the 
iniquity  of  the  city.  And  while  he  lingered,  the  men 
laid  hold  upon  his  hand,  and  upon  the  hand  of  his 
wife,  a -id  upon  the  hand  oj  his  two  daughters;  the 
LORD  being  merciful  unto  him:  and  they  brought 
him  forth,  and  set  him  without  the  city.  And  it 
came  to  pass,  when  they  had  brought  them  forth 
abroad*  that  he  said,  Escape  for  thy  life;  look  not 
behind  //zee,  neither  stay  thou  in  all  the  plain;  es- 
cape to  the  mountain,  lest  thou  be  consumed.  And 
Lot  said  unto  them,  Ok  not  so,  mi/  Lord:  Behold 
?z0tc,  thy  servant  hath  found  grace  in  thy  sight,  and 
thou  hast  magnified  tin/  mm*//,  which  thou  hast 
shewed  unto  me  in  savi  -g  my  life;  and  I  cannot  es- 
cape to  the  mountain,  lest  some  evil  take  me.  and 
I  die:  Behold  now  this  city  is  near  to  Jlce  unto,  and 
it  is  a  little  one:  oh,  let  me  escape  thither,  (is  it  not 
a  little  one?)at>d  wy  soul  shall  live.  And  lie  said 
unto  him,  See.  I  //  -rp/ed  thic  co;nrrni:\^  I/'tis 

thing  also,  that  /  will  not  ovrrlhrow  this  <:////.  for 
the  which  thou   hast    xpokcn.      I  taste   //ice,  esc 
thither;  J'cr  [  cannot  do  any  thing  till  thou  be  come 
thither.      Thenfure  the  name  of  the  city  u-as  called 


132 

Zoar.  The  sun  was  risen  upon  the  earth  when  Lot 
entered  into  Zoar.  Then  the  LORD  rained  upon 
Sodom  and  Gomorrah  brimstone  and  ftre  from  the 
LORD  out  of  heaven;  and  he  overthrew  those  cities, 
and  all  the  plain,  and  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  cit- 
ies, and  that  which  grew  upon  the  ground.  But 
his  wife  looked  back  from  behind  him,  and  she  be- 
came a  pillar  of  salt. 

2  PETER  n,  6. 

Turning  the  cities  of  Sodom  and  Gomorrha  into 

ashes,  condemned  tTiem  with  an  overthrow;  making 
them  an  ensample  unto  those  that  after  should  live 
ungodly. 

THE  history  of  Genesis  is  peculiarly  interesting,  be- 
cause it  soon  leaves  the  wide  concerns  of  nations,  and 
attaches  itself  to  individuals.  It  discovers  to  us  the  De- 
ity commanding  alight  to  shine  out  of  darkness;"  and 
presents  a  short,  yet  comprehensive,  account  of  things 
the  most  sublime  and  difficult:  it  relates  the  destruc- 
tion, and  the  revolution,  of  the  world;  it  gives  us  a  clue 
by  which  we  are  enabled  to  trace  the  origin  of  nations; 
and  after  having  thus  opened  a  boundless  scene  before 
us,  it  relieves  the  mind,  bewildered  and  wearied  in  its 
researches,  by  fixing  the  attention  upon  one  quiet  ob- 
ject. We  find  ourselves  transported  into  the  bosom 
of  a  family;  and  are  encompassed,  before  we  are  aware, 
with  the  beauties  and  the  pleasures  of  domestic  life. 
We  unite  in  their  devotions:  glow  with  their  ardor: 
weep  with  their  sorrows;  and  rejoice  in  their  prosper- 
ity. The  fluctuations  of  empires,  the  revolutions  of 
states,  the  achievements  of  ambition,  distract  and  tire 
our  attention:  but  in  entering  into  the  concerns  of  a 


I  So 

family,  ev7ery  man  feels  himself  at  home — in  pursu- 
ing the  hopes  and  fears,  the  labors  and  disappoint- 
ments, of  an  individual,  every  man  traces  the  image  of 
his  own  anxieties  and  pleasures. 

When  we  turn  over  the  pages  of  profane  writers, 
what  different  scenery  is  presented!  We  justly  admire 
the  beauties  of  Homer:  as  a  poet  truly  sublime;  pos- 
sessing a  genius  which  soared  high  above  the  common 
standard  of  human  intellect.  In  energy  of  composi- 
tion, in  loftiness  of  language;  in  richness  of  imagery, 
he  stands  unrivalled — he  ranks  next  to  the  sacred  wri- 
ters. But  in  his  works,  from  first  to  last,  we  are  drag- 
ged through  fields  of  slaughter:  or  trace  the  mortifying 
windings  of  human  corruption:  or  are  surrounded 
with  scenes,  over  which  humanity  drops  tears  of  uni- 
versal regret,  We  hear  ii>  strains,  the  most  harmonious, 
a  hero  sung,  returning  from  the  battle,  covered  with 
human  blood.  The  martial  music  that  announces  his 
approach,  is  drowned  in  the  shrieks  of  orphans.  The 
laurel  of  which  he  proudly  boasts,  was  nourished  in 
the  empurpled  plains  of  carnage,  and  snatched  from 
the  field  of  death. 

Hail,  peaceful  retreats!  Ye  calm,  suquestered,  tran- 
quil tents,  that  stretched  your  quiet  shadow  over  the 
head  of  the  venerable  patriarch,  and  shielded  him 
from  the  heat  of  the  day — welcome  to  the  mind's  eye! 
Far  be  the  scene  of  desolation!  Approach,  ye  gentle 
shadows  that  once  lived  in  this  valley  of  tears;  and 
even  now  that  ye  are  borne  au\»y  to  heaven,  return  to 
our  imagination,  and  revisit  us  in  the  sacred  pages! 
Let  the  maddening  world  seek  -the  battle  of  the  war- 
ri:>r  with  confused  noise:"  we  love  to  observe  the 
pleasing  bonds  of  friendship,  and  to  admire  the  do- 
he,  felicity  of  a  pious  family.  To  the  hero,  who, 


134 

delights  in  "garments  rolled  in  blood,"  we  consign  the 
pages  that  describe,  in  colors,  alas!  too  natural,  the 
horrors  of  war.  Be  it  ours,  to  listen  to  the  music  of 
the  grove;  to  trace  the  windings  of  the  rivulet;  to  read 
the  name  of  God  in  the  starry  heavens;  and  to  follow 
the  good  man  through  his  chequered  life,  to  a  "city  of 
habitation."  While  others  burn  with  the  ardor  of  the 
warrior,  let  us  glow  with  the  exalted  piety  shining 
through  the  character  of  those  good  men,  who  bor- 
rowed all  their  lustre  from  friendship  with  God! 

After  the  memorable  event,  which  formed  the  sub- 
ject of  discussion  in  the  last  Lecture,  we  are  introduced, 
rather  suddenly,  to  the  great  progenitor  of  the  Jewish 
nation:  in  whose  "seed,"  it  is  promised,  "all  nations  of 
the  earth  shall  be  blesssed."  Terah,  the  father  of  Abra- 
ham,descended  in  a  direct  line  from  Seth.  Idolatry  had 
already  commenced,  and  was  widely  diffused,  when 
"Terah  took  Abram  his  son,  and  Lot  the  son  of  Ha- 
ran,  his  son's  son,  and  Sarai  his  daughter-in-law,  his 
son  Abram's  wife;  and  they  went  forth  with  them 
from  Ur  of  the  Chaldees,  to  go  into  the  land  of  Ca- 
naan; and  they  came  unto  Haran,  and  dwelt  there. 
And  the  days  of  Terah  were  two  hundred  and  five 
years:  and  Terah  died  in  Haran."  Idolatry  was 
probably  the  cause  of  this  removal.  The  city  in  which 
they  dwelt  was  the  centre  of  superstition:  it  was  cal- 
led Ur,  which  signifies  fire,  or  light;  a  name  which 
was  probably  given  it,  like  Heliopolis,  because  it  was 
devoted  particularly  to  the  worship  of  fire,  and  conse- 
crated to  the  sun.*  It  appears  that  God  had  expressly 
testified  his  will,  that  Abram  should  proceed  to  Canaan; 
and,  obeying  the  call  of  heaven,  "he  went  out,  not 

*  See  note  1,  of  this  koc'ure,  at  the  end  of  the  vo! 


135 

knowing  whither  he  went."  At  an  advanced  age, 
this  patriarch  left  his  home,  and  his  connexions:  for 
he  was  "seventy-five  years  old,  when  he  departed  out 
of  Haran."  Lot,  his  brother's  son,  accompanied  him. 
Possibly,  as  he  was  childless,  it  was  Abram's  intention 
to  adopt  him:  but  a  better,  and  a  stronger,  reason,  for 
his  attachment  to  his  uncle,  was,  that  the  hand  of 
heaven  had  touched  his  heart;  and  that  he  acted  in 
obedience  to  the  same  divine  mandate,  which  had  led 
Abram  into  a  strange  land,  even  when  the  pressure  of 
years  was  bending  his  steps  towards  the  valley  of  the 
shadow  of  death. 

Oh,  the  triumphs  of  faith!  It  overlooks  intervening 
years,  and  regards  the  promised  blessing  as  already  in 
possession!  It  removes  every  difficulty;  answers  every 
objection;  and  never  rests  till  its  end  is  obtained!  Exer- 
cised by  delays,  it  patiently  endures:  corrected  by 
trials,  it  prepares  its  possessor  for  the  good  to  which  it 
is  pressing  forward;  and  crowned  with  ultimate  suc- 
cess, it  throws  over  him  a  glory,  undiminished  by  the 
revolution  of  years,  and  untarnished  by  the  hand  of 
age. 

To  manifest  how  large  a  portion  of  this  grace  this 
truly  great  man  possessed,  he  was  named,  "the  father 
of  the  faithful;"  and  so  pleasing  in  the  eyes  of  Deity 
were  the  traits  of  his  character,  that  God  conferred 
upon  him  a  title  more  dignified,  more  glorious,  and 
more  enviable,  than  the  greatest  monarch,  and  the 
proudest  conqueror,  ever  enjoyed — he  was  called,  "the 

id  of  God." 

Yet  was  he  hut  a  man!  His  exalted  character — and 

his  holy  life — were  sometimes  tarnished  with  human 

'viirss      Oh!  where  was  his  faith  in  the  protecting 

!  of  heaven,  when  unguardedly,  yet  deliberately, 


137 

he  sought  refuge  in  prevarication,  to  save  himself  from 
violence  in  Egypt,  on  account  of  his  wife?  "Say,  I 
pray  thee,  thou  art  my  sister!"  It  was  not  indeed  an 
absolute  falsehood  in  point  of  fact;  but  it  was  a  wilful 
intent  to  deceive,  which  enters  directly  into  the  nature, 
and  forms  all  the  character,  of  lying.  The  compas- 
sion of  God  to  human  infirmity,  was  manifest,  in  cast- 
ing a  mantle  of  forgiveness  over  this  sinful  pusillanim- 
ity. The  hand  of  Deity  was  still  stretched  out  in  his 
defence;  and  his  unchangeable  Friend  was  better  to  him 
than  his  fears.  But  as  he  used  unlawful  means  to 
secure  his  safety,  his  sin  was  made  his  punishment. 
Pharaoh,  justly  exasperated  at  the  deception  practised 
upon  him;  and  fearing  the  anger  of  God,  who  had 
afflicted  his  house  with  great  plagues;  restored  his  wife, 
but  banished  him  from  his  dominions.  Thus,  simply, 
in  the  use  of  the  means,  to  rely  upon  God,  in  the  hour 
of  peril,  will  always  defend  us  from  danger,  and  deliv- 
er us  from  evil:  but  to  distrust  the  Deity,  and  to  shelter 
ourselves  under  our  own  unlawful,  or  sinful,  devices, 
exposes  us  to  incalculable  difficulties,  and  will  involve 
us  in  trouble,  in  the  very  midst  of  deliverance. 

As  Abram  journeyed  in  the  road  by  which  he  had 
descended  into  Egypt,  he  came  again  to  an  altar, 
which  he  had  before  set  up,  in  his  way  thither.  Sweet 
are  the  recollections  of  kindnesses  received;  and  pleas- 
ant the  memorials  of  mercies  departed!  If  we  were  to 
accustom  ourselves  to  rear  tokens  of  remembrance 
for  every  assistance  which  we  derive  from  God;  and 
to  erect  an  altar  where  we  receive  a  mercy;  how  many 
evidences  for  good  would  be  presented  in  the  retro- 
spection of  our  lives;  and  the  review  of  the  past,  would 
create  confidence  for  the  future.  The  moss  might 
grow  over  the  pillar,  and  the  fire  of  the  altar  would 
18 


138 

go  out:  but  the  inscription  would  be  fresh  on  the  tablet 
of  memory,  and  gratitude  would  kindle  the  purer 
flame  of  affection  in  the  heart.  Thus  Abram  reared 
an  altar  in  his  way  to  Egypt;  and  found  it  again  on 
his  return.  Thus  Jacob  elevated  a  pillar,  at  Bethel, 
after  his  vision  of  God;  and  with  what  feelings  did  he 
revisit  it,  when  he  was  delivered  from  his  fears,  and 
increased  in  his  blessings!  Thus  '-Samuel"  took  a  stone, 
-and  set  it  up  between  Mizpah  and  Shen,  and  called 
the  name  of  it  Ebenezer,  saying  'Hitherto  hath  the 
Lord  helped  us!7  r  It  is  not  necessary  that  we  should 
erect  these  outward  memorials:  but  let  the  pillar  be 
raised  in  our  bosoms,  and  the  inscription  read  in  our 
lives! 

Multiplied  in  goods,  at  length  it  became  necessary 
that  Abram  and  Lot  should  separate.  There  are  few 
blessings  of  life  unalloyed — few  trials  unmixed.  The 
good  that  we  pant  after,  has  some  unseen  evil  annexed 
to  it,  which  will  arise  to  cloud  it  in  the  very  moment 
of  possession;  and  the  evil  that  we  deprecate  produces 
some  happy  effect,  which  does  not  always  cease  when 
its  immediate  cause  is  withdrawn.  Adversity  often 
unites  the  various  branches  of  a  family — prosperity  as 
frequently  separates  them.  The  one  teaches  them 
that  they  ought  to  have  a  common  concern — the  other 
has  an  unhappy  tendency  to  persuade  them  that  they 
have  a  separate  interest — and  in  many  instances  the 
latter  is  but  too  successful!  Prosperity  divided  Abram 
a:id  Lot.  The  place  was  too  strait  for  their  flocks; 
and  the  herdmen,  on  either  side,  had  augmented  the 
difficulty  by  contention.  Oh!  who  will  not  admire 
the  spirit  of  Abram?  "And  Abram  said  unto  Lot. 
*Let  there  be  no  strife.  I  pray  thce,  between  thce  and 
me — between  thy  heixlinrn  and  my  hmlmen — for  we 


139 

are  brethren!  Is  not  the  whole  land  before  thcer  Sep- 
arate thyself,  I  pray  thee,  from  me.  If  thou  wilt  take 
the  left  hand,  then  I  will  go  to  the  right:  or  if  thou  de- 
part to  the  right  hand,  then  I  will  go  to  the  left!'  " 
Although  the  elder,  he  thought  it  no  disgrace  to  yield; 
and,  by  his  submission,  proved  his  greatness  of  mind. 
As  the  younger,  it  was  the  duty  of  Lot  to  have  stoop- 
ed: as  the  superior,  Abram  might  have  commanded. 
But  no — his  language  is,  "We  are  brethren!"  Lovely 
spirit  of  pure  and  undefiled  religion!  how  it  fosters  the 
charities  of  human  life!  how  it  soothes  the  turbulence 
of  passion!  how  it  promotes  the  peace  of  society!  It- 
quenches  the  spark  that  was  just  bursting  into  a  con- 
flagration. It  unites  more  closely  the  knot  that  was 
almost  unfolded.  It  knits  together  the  link  that  was 
nearly  broken.  It  extinguishes  the  torch  of  war;  and 
banishes  contention  from  the  domestic  circle.  Lot 
chose  the  plain  of  Jordan,  near  Sodom  and  Gomor- 
rah, into  which  he  afterwards  entered,  and  where  he 
resided;  and  it  was  "well  watered  every  where,  as  the 
garden  of  the  Lord," 

The  chain  of  history  is  broken,  to  relate  in  its  order. 
a  battle  which  was  fought  in  the  vale  of  Siddim.  This 
event  is  recorded  in  a  style  exactly  suited  to  the  con- 
test. The  abrupt  manner  in  which  it  breaks  in  upon 
the  peaceful  history,  appears  adapted  to  the  relation 
of  a  tumult,  which  suddenly  destroyed  the  harmony 
of  the  country,  and  depopulated  cities,  previously 
slumbering  in  tranquillity.  Where  now  is  the  fruitful 
plain?  the  vallies  watered  by  a  thousand  rills?  and  the 
smiling  pastures,  which  charmed  the  eye  of  Lot?  Ah! 
war  has  shaken  his  destructive  scourge  over  them--, 
has  blasted  their  verdure — and  transformed,  by  his 
withering  frown,  this  terrestrial  paradise  into  a.  desa- 


140 

late  wilderness!  Lot  himself  was  taken  prisoner.  No 
sooner  were  the  tidings  brought  to  Abram,  than  he 
roused  to  exertion;  and  arming  his  household,  to  the 
amount  of  three  hundred  and  eighteen  men,  he  rescu- 
ed his  brother  and  delivered  the  vanquished  captives. 
The  only  difficulty  arising  here  is  this:  how  was  it 
possible  for  Abram,  with  three  hundred  and  eighteen 
men,  to  oppose  successfully  four  kings;  and  to  prevail 
over  their  armies  already  flushed  with  conquest?  To 
remove  this  apparent  objection  to  the  sacred  history, 
it  is  necessary  to  remark,  that  these  kings  were  noth- 
ing more  than  rulers  of  four  little  cities,  close  by  each 
other,  whose  combined  forces,  in  that  battle,  probably, 
did  not  so  considerably  exceed  Abram's  armed  ser- 
vants as  a  superficial  reader  might  imagine.  It  should 
also  be  remembered,  that  Abram  closely  pursued,  and 
overtook  them,  when  they  were  wearied  with  the  toils 
of  battle,  sunk  in  revellings  and  unsuspicious  of  danger. 
The  nerve  of  war  was  relaxed;  and  the  softness  of  sen- 
suality had  already  overpowered  them.  The  servants 
of  Abram  possessed  their  full  vigor;  and  the  banner  of 
divine  protection  waved  over  their  heads. 

On  his  return  from  this  conquest,  we  are  introduced 
to  a  very  extraordinary  personage.  Melchisedec  met 
him,  blessed  him,  arid  received  tythes  at  his  hand. 
Little  is  known,  and  much  has  been  conjectured,  re- 
specting this  august  stronger.  His  names  appear  to 
denote  a  character  of  moral  excellence.  J\lelchisedec 
signifies  Icing  of  righteousness;  and  Melchisalem,  tran- 
lated  in  our  bibles,  '-king  of  Salem,"  implies  king  of 
peace.  The  apostle  who  wrote  to  the  Hebrews,  con- 
siders him  as  a  type  of  the  Lord  Jesus;  and  describes 
him  "without  father,  without  mother,  without  descent; 
having  nei"  -inning  of  days  nor  end  of  life." 


141 

The  obvious  meaning  of  these  declarations  is,  that  we 
know  nothing  of  his  birth — nothing  of  lu  .  death — 
neither  can  we  trace  his  genealogy.  Introduced  thus 
abruptly,  he  disappears  as  suddenly;  and  we  hear  of 
him  no  more.  The  veil  is  lifted  to  discover  him;  and 
having  just  seen  him,  it  is  dropped — and  hides  him 
from  us  for  ever! 

The  toils  of  battle  are  succeeded  by  a  solemn  inter- 
view with  Jehovah.  "The  word  of  God  came  to  Abram 
in  a  vision."  It  was  a  word  of  consolation;  it  was  a 
message  of  encouragement.  A  son  was  promised;  and 
tit  was  declared  his  seed  should  be,  "as  the  stars  of 
heaven," — innumerable.  As  a  ratification  of  this  sol- 
emn engagement,  he  wras  commanded  to  prepare  a  sac- 
rifice. During  the  whole  day,  he  waited  the  promis- 
ed visit  from  heaven;  "and  when  the  fowls  came  down 
on  the  carcasses,  Abram  drove  them  away."  But 
"when  the  sun  was  going  down,  a  deep  sleep  fell  up- 
on Abram;  and  lo,  an  horror  of  great  darkness  fell 
upon  him."  Then  the  Deity  renewed  the  promise 
before  made  to  him;  and  predicted  the  slavery  and  the 
deliverance  of  his  descendants  in  Egypt.  And  this 
was  the  sign  of  the  covenant:  "it  came  to  pass,  that 
when  the  sun  went  down,  and  it  was  dark,  behold,  a 
smoking  furnace,  and  a  burning  lamp,  that  passed  be- 
tween the  pieces>" 

O  Christian!  in  religious  worship,  guard  against  in- 
truding thoughts:  they  are  as  the  fowls  descending  to 
pollute,  and  to  devour,  thy  sacrifice:  like  Abram,  let 
it  be  thy  effort  to  drive  them  away.  Guard  the  offer- 
ing from  the  unhallowed  intruders;  and  if  God  delay, 
patiently  wait  the  manifestation  of  his  presence.  "The 
vision  is  for  an  appointed  time;  it  will  come,  it  will  not 
tarry"  beyond  the  moment  of  divine  appointment. 


142 

Enter  with  solemnity  into  the  presence  of  God;  and 
approach  him  with  seriousness.  Every  visit  from  the 
Divinity,  is  awful.  "An  horror  of  great  darkness  fell 
upon  Abram."  "And  Jacob  awakened  out  of  his 
sleep,  and  he  said,  'Surely  the  Lord  is  in  this  place;  and 
I  knew  it  not.'  And  he  was  afraid,  and  said,  'How 
dreadful  is  this  place!  this  is  none  other  but  the  house 
of  God,  and  this  is  the  gate  of  heaven!'  ' 

A  new  source  of  sorrow  soon  arises;  and  Abram's 
domestic  tranquillity  is  broken,  by  a  contention  be- 
tween his  wife  and  the  servant  whom  she  had  given 
to  cover  what  she  deemed  her  reproach.  What  a 
chequered  scene  is  the  life  of  the  best  of  men!  Some- 
times irradiated  with  the  glory  of  divine  intercourse: 
at  others,  clouded  by  public,  or  domestic,  trial.  Abram 
is  "a  stranger,  and  a  pilgrim."  The  beauty  of  his 
wife  ensnares  him  in  Egypt.  His  prevarication  drives 
him  thence.  Their  mutual  prosperity  renders  a  sep- 
aration between  him  and  Lot  necessary — and  effects 
the  division.  War  breaks  in  upon  his  repose;  and 
requires  him  to  'crush  his  aged  limbs  in  ungentle 
steel.'  He  forgets  his  labors  and  sorrows,  in  the  bles- 
sings of  divine  communion,  and  in  the  soothing  prom- 
ises of  a  gracious  covenant;  when  a  contention  is  kind- 
led, which  consumes  his  dearest  comforts;  an  affliction 
springs  up,  which  touches  him  in  the  most  tender- 
part;  and  his  house  becomes  '-divided  against  itself." 
Trials  from  without  may  be  endured;  and  the  man 
retires  from  the  scene  of  strife  and  mortification,  to  a 
smiling  family  circle:  he  i  trains  his  temper,  reasMime* 
his  tranquillity,  renews  his  Mniles.  ami  forgets  his  vex- 
ations; but  when  (Inmesiie  harmon  -iroyeil,  the 
very  I  of  \><  a  %e  arc  dried  up;  and  it  is  in  vain  to 
look  abroad  for  coi isolation.  The  man's  joys  are  pol- 


luted  at  their  very  fountain;  and  all  their  separate 
streams  will  necessarily  flow  defiled  through  all  their 
ramifications.  Peace  affrighted,  frequently  flies  from 
the  tumults  of  the  world,  and  alights,  an  angel  form, 
in  the  bosom  of  a  family:  but  if  she  is  a  stranger  at 
home,  we  shall  look  for  her  in  vain  at  the  exchange  of 
merchandize,  and  in  the  public  walks  of  life. 

The  issue  of  this  contest  was — Hagar  fled.  While 
she  was  prosperous  and  vain,  she  was  left  to  taste  the 
bitterness  of  her  own  folly:  but  the  moment  earth 
abandoned  her,  heaven  took  up  her  cause:  God  be- 
came the  friend  of  the  fugitive;  and  her  name  no 
sooner  appeared  on  the  list  of  the  desolate,  than  the 
care  of  her  fortunes  was  transferred  from  man  to  the 
Deity;  and  he  became  her  guardian.  She  was  culpa 
ble:  and  her  fault  had  its  correspondent  penalty.  Her 
foolish  pride  had  embittered  the  peace  of  the  family; 
and  she  lost  the  shelter  of  the  roof  under  which  .she 
had  introduced  discord.  We  are  displeased  with  the 
culprit:  but  we  are  moved  at  her  punishment.  A  voice 
more  than  human  is  heard  in  the  solitude;  and  arrests 
her  attention.  An  angel  is  sent  to  her  with  a  message 
full  of  consolation.  Her  eyes,  which  were  clouded  by 
sorrow,  no  sooner  glanced  upon  her  unexpected  and 
illustrious  visitor,  than  a  gleam  of  hope  illumined  them: 
but  when  he  unfolded  the  singular  character,  and  the 
future  fortunes,  of  her  unborn  child,  they  brightened 
into  the  full  radiance  of  joy.  It  was  ordained  that  his 
name  should  be  Ishmael;  and  it  was  predicted  concern- 
ing him,  "He  will  be  a  wild  man;  his  hand  will  be 
against  every  man,  and  every  man's  hand  against  him; 
and  he  shall  dwell  in  the  presence  of  all  his  brethren.'7 
His  descendants,  the  Arabs,  have  well  accomplished 
the  prophecy,  at  every  period  of  their  history.  Living 


144 

by  plunder,  and  in  perpetual  warfare  with  all  the 
world — remote  from  cities,  and  scattered  in  wandering 
tribes  over  the  desert — resisted,  yet  invincible — they 
are  "wild  men;"  their  "hand  is  against  every  man" — 
and  "every  man's  hand  is  against  them" — and  they 
"dwell  in  the  presence  of  all  their  brethren."  Heaven 
does  not  interpose  to  cherish  a  proud  spirit,  but  to  sub- 
due it;  and  Hagar,  having  provoked  the  harshness 
with  which  her  mistress  treated  her,  is  expected  to 
make  concessions,  and  commanded  to  return  to  Sarai. 
Her  master's  roof  once  more  shelters  her;  and  under  its 
shadow  the  promised  child  is  born. 

Thirteen  years  from  this  period,  God  renewed  his 
covenant  with  Abram;  and  gave  the  seal  of  circumci- 
sion. On  this  memorable  occasion,  the  names  of  the 
patriarch,  and  of  his  wife,  were  changed  to  ABRAHAM 
and  SARAH,  as  more  appropriate  to  the  blessings  that 
awaited  them.  Abram  signifies  high,  or  exalted 
father — a  name  of  great  respectability:  Abraham  im- 
plies father  of  nations — a  name  that  embraces  the  lati- 
tude of  the  divine  promise.  Sarai  signifies  MY  prin- 
cess— an  appellation  of  fond  regard:  Sarah  implies  A 
princess — a  title  of  honor,  dignity,  and  dominion. 

In  the  same  year  the  Deity  again  visited  him  as  he 
sat  at  the  door  of  his  tent  on  the  plains  of  Mamre. 
Three  personages,  apparently  men,  approached  him: 
but  although  so  thick  a  veil  concealed  them,  he  soon 
discovered  that  they  were  more  than  human.  The 
promise  o$  a  child  by  Sarah,  was  confirmed  by  new 
prote-hitioiis.  We  presume  not  to  dcvelope  the  mys- 
tery of  these  three  extraordinary  characters.  Various 
n  formed  n^pcrling  them;  and  to 
is  a  fruitless  and  an  endless  labor. 

The  p.-;  MHI  who  remained  with  Abraham,  when  two 
departed  towards  Sodom,  carries  features  of  marked 


145 

pre  eminence;  and  is  expressly  called  JEHOVAH.  Some 
have  supposed  that  an  angel,  bearing  the  commands 
of  Deity,  was  honored  with  that  awful  name,  and 
used  the  lofty  and  dignified  language  which  appears 
on  this  part  of  the  sacred  record.  We  believe  that, 
on  this  supposition,  this  instance  is  unparalleled  in  the 
scriptures.  Others  again  imagine,  as  it  appears  to  us, 
with  greater  reason,  that  it  was  the  6on  of  God, 
attended  by  two  angels.  To  him,  this  great  and  lofty 
name  belongs  by  right;  and  to  him  it  is  repeatedly 
assigned  in  the  Bible.  Jeremiah  applies  it  to  Jesus 
Christ  without  scruple.  "Behold,,  the  clays  come,  saith 
the  LORD,  that  I  will  raise  unto  David  a  righteous 
branch;  and  a  king  shall  reign  and  prosper,  and  shall 
execute  judgment  and  justice  in  the  earth.  In  his  days, 
shall  Judah  be  saved,  and  Israel  shall  dwell  safely; 
and  this  is  the  NAME  whereby  he  shall  be  called — 
JEHOVAH  OUR  RIGHTEOUSNESS.*" 

The  two  angels  having  departed,  the  august  person- 
age, who  bears  every  feature  of  Deity,  and  whom 
Abraham  addresses  with  all  the  humility  which  a  deep 
sense  of  the  Divine  presence  alone  can  inspire,  impart- 
ed his  displeasure,  and  his  designs  against  Sodom  and 
Gomorrah,  with  the  cities  of  the  plain. t  The  remem- 
brance of  Lot,  conspired  with  the  feelings  of  human- 
ity, to  raise  the  combined  voices  of  affection  and  of 
pity  on  behalf  of  the  rebels  doomed  to  destruction. 
Compassion  touched  his  heart  for  the  offenders,  while 
he  loathed  their  guilt;  and  the  residence  of  a  part  of 
his  own  family  among  them,  suggested  a  plea, — "Wilt 
thou  also  destroy  the  righteous  with  the  wicked?"  His 
language  is  powerful;  for  the  heart  dictated  it:  but  it 

*  Jer.  xxiii,  5,  6. 
f  See  note  2,  at  the  end  of  the  volume. 

19 


146 

is  submissive;  for  the  spirit  of  real  religion  directed  it. 
What  a  pattern  for  us,  in  our  addresses  to  the  Deity! 
"Behold  now,  I  have  taken  upon  me  to  speak  unto  the 
LORD,  which  am  but  dust  and  ashes!" — '-Oh,  let  not  the 
LORD  be  angry,  and  I  will  speak!" — and  this  humility 
introduces  and  pervades  every  petition.  What  a  re- 
proof to  those  who  dare  to  approach  the  Majesty  of 
heaven  irreverently;  and  to  speak  with  unhallowed 
familiarity  to  the  high  and  lofty  One  who  inhabiteth 
the  praises  of  eternity! 

According  to  the  hospitality  of  the  ancients,  Lot  sat 
at  the  gate  of  the  city  to  invite  to  his  habitation  any 
stranger  who  might  enter.  To  refresh  the  heart  of  the 
traveller,  wearied  with  the  toils  of  the  day,  and  way- 
worn; to  wash  his  feet;  to  give  him  a  morsel  of  bread, 
a  pillow  for  repose,  a  smile  of  peace;  and  to  send  him 
on  his  way  rejoicing,  in  the  morning — this  was  practi- 
cal religion,  beaming  forth  in  her  native  simplicity, 
from  a  patriarch's  eyes.  The  two  angels,  who  hud  left 
Abraham,  approached  Sodom.  Lot  addressed  them 
in  language  which  implied  that  he  was  about  to  re- 
ceive, and  not  to  confer  an  obligation.  "Behold  now, 
my  lords,  turn  in,  I  pray  you,  into  your  servant's  house, 
and  tarry  all  night,  and  wash  your  feet,  and  ye  shall 
rise  up  early  and  go  on  your  ways.  And  they  said, 
Nay,  but  we  will  abide  in  the  street  all  night.  And 
he  pressed  upon  them  greatly:  and  they  turned  in  un- 
to him,  and  entered  into  his  house;  and  he  made  them 
a  feast,  and  did  bake  unleavened  bread,  and  they  did 
cat."  This  is  the  politeness  of  nature;  and  the  true 
method  of  conferring  a  favor.  It  docs  not  appear 
that,  at  this  timr,  he  knew  them:  and,  referring  most 
probably  to  this  event,  the  apo^tk-  who  wrote  to  the 
] lebrews  directs,  uBe  not  forgetful  to  entertain  stran- 


147 


gprs;  for  thereby  some  have  entertained  angels  una- 


wares." 


We  draw  a  veil  over  the  brutal  scene  which  fol- 
lows.— It  is  sufficient  to  remark,  that  such  was  the  ex- 
treme and  unpardonable  wickedness  of  those  detesta- 
ble cities,  that  the  indignation  of  God,  manifested  on 
their  polluted  plains,  must  be  completely  justified,  even 
in  the  apprehension  of  short-sighted  mortals. 

At  length  their  commission  is  opened  before  Lot. 
He  is  commanded  to  bring  all  that  he  held  dear  from 
a  place  devoted  to  destruction.  He  was  compelled 
reluctantly  to  abandon  his  sons-in-law:  who  regarded 
him  uas  one  that  mocked."  The  angels  hastened  his 
lingering  steps — urged  his  immediate  departure — 
snatched  him  from  his  dangerous  hesitation — and  left 
him  not,  till  they  had  conducted  him  to  a  place  of 
safety.  "Then  the  LORD  reigned  upon  Sodom  and 
upon  Gomorrah,  brimstone  and  fire  from  the  LORD 
out  of  heaven." 

We  have  now  touched  the  principal  point  of  the 
present  Lecture.  THE  DESTRUCTION  OF  SODOM  AND 
GOMORRAH,  is  confirmed  and  established,  by  evidences 
at  once  short,  comprehensive,  and  satisfactory.  They 
are  included  in  the  following  arrangement:  The  nar- 
rative of  Moses:  the  testimony  of  ancient  writers;  and 
the  features  of  desolation  remaining  on  the  spot. 

I.  THE  NARRATIVE    OF    MOSES. 

We  have  selected  for  our  contemplation,  the  mo- 
ment when  the  attention  is  arrested  by  the  conviction  of 
impending  danger;  and  the  point  of  history  where  the 
interest  of  the  reader  is  excited  in  anticipation  of  its 
issue.  The  sacred  writer  discovers  in  this,  as  in  every 
record  of  his  pen,  singular  ability  in  touching  the  heart; 


148 

while  he  preserves  a  wonderful  simplicity  throughout 
the  whole  narration.  Ail  is  nature  in  his  descriptions; 
and  his  assertions  hear,  on  their  very  face,  the  impress 
of  truth.  With  what  grandeur  the  scene  opens  upon  us. 
The  day  dawns,  which  is  to  vanish  from  the  eyes  of 
the  wicked  before  its  meridian;  and  they  gaze,  uncon- 
scious of  danger,  upon  the  earliest  glories  of  the  east, 
which  are  so  s-'»on,  as  it  respects  them,  to  be  extin- 
guished in  eternal  night.  Lot  emerges  from  the  pollu- 
^3  of  depravity,  an  instance  of  the  goodness  of 
(  I  us  the  desolation  which  demonstra- 

•v  •  And  when  the  morning  arose, 
then  the  angels  hastened  Lot,  saying,  Arise,  take  thy 
tc'ij'e,  and  ihy  two  daughters,  which  are  here;  lest 
thou  be  consumed  in  the  iniquity  of  the  city."  The 
night  istheseason  of  alarm  and  of  danger.  As  the  gloom 
thickens,  every  object  wears  a  portentous  aspect.  Its 
solemnity  deepens  the  cloud  of  affliction;  and  throws 
a  darker  shade  over  sorrow  itself.  It  is  the  time  for 
awful  deeds.  Then  tiic  murderer  stalks  abroad  to  de- 
stroy; and  his  "feet  are  swift  to  shed  blood."  Then 
the  adultress  spreads  her  toils  to  ensnare.  Then  vio- 
lence is  prepared  to  "smite  with  the  fist  of  wickedness;" 
and  the  thief  treads  softly,  that  he  may^break  through 
and  steal."  The.;  the  sinner  hastens  to  iniquity,  in 
imaginary  security  under  the  cuvrrt  of  midnight,  and 
says,  in  the  ignorance  and  presumption  of  his  heart, 
"Tusl-1  God  th  i^tseeP  It  was  ;.t  night,  that  the 
1  |  \.s-eu  in-.'.  iuh  Egypt  t<»  .-lay  the  first- 
born: at  n"'ghUhat  thr  8*1  r-,i  <>»  lh«-  Lurd  penetrated  the 
camp  o!  i  an  hundred  and  eigh- 

ty five  t:  i  mrii:  at  ni:>ht.  that  the  shadow  of  a 

'vail  of  i*,:lbhaz/ar's  palace,  the  de- 
parture of  his  kirgdom,  the  close  of  his  glories,  and  of 


149 

his  life  together,  and  the  scrutiny  of  justice,  with  it? 
perilous  consequences.  But  the  day  has  ever  been  re- 
garded as  the  season  of  security.  The  first  ray  oi'lhe 
morning  chases  the  phantoms  of  the  imagination,  and 
terminates  the  horrors  of  fancy.  Light  discovers 
real  peril,  and  bears  with  it  the  means  of  escape. 
When  the  day  breaks  upon  us,  it  scatters  peace,  and 
joy,  and  safety,  in  its  smiles.  Ah,  how  little  do  we 
know  where  danger  lurks,  and  when  the  dream  of 
happiness  shall  be  broken!  Sodom  escapes  the  perils 
of  night,  to  fall  by  unexpected  vengeance  in  the  morn- 
ing! " And  while  he  lingered" — who  that  had  a  heart 
to  feel,  and  connexions  to  relinquish;  could  refrain? — 
"while  he  lingered  the  men  laid  hold  of  his  hand,  and 
upon  the  hand  of  his  wife,  and  upon  the  hand  of  his 
two  daughters;  the  LORD  being  merciful  unto  him: 
and  they  brought  him  forth  and  set  him  without  the 
city  "  A  gentle  constraint  is  laid  upon  him,  to  snatch 
him  from  ruin.  It  is  thus  that  we  feel  a  divine  power 
gently  attracting  us  from  the  world  to  the  cross:  we 
are  drawn  with  "the  cords  of  love:"  no  violence  is 
imposed  upon  our  will  in  leading  us  from  the  paths  of 
death:  but  we  feel,  and  acknowledge,  that  it  is  HE, 
"who  worketh  in  us  to  will  and  to  do  his  own  good 
pleasure."  It  is  thus  when  our  wandering  hearts  "fol- 
low lying  vanities,  and  forsake  their  own  mercies,57 
that  God  sends  some  gentle  and  salutary  affliction,  to 
chastise  our  folly,  and  to  bring  our  spirit  home  to  its 
rest.  "And  it  came  to  pass,  when  they  had  brought 
them  forth  abroad,  that  he  said,  Escape  for  thy  life; 
look  not  behind  thee,  neither  stay  tliou  in  all  the 
plain;  escape  to  the  mountain  lest  thou  be  consumed." 
Judgment  once  awakened  is  not  always  directed  to 
discriminate  characters;  and  the  righteous  are  some- 


15© 

times  permitted  to  suffer  in  the  general  calamity.  It 
is  not  safe  to  dwell  in  the  tents  of  sin;  and  those  who 
take  up  their  abode  in  the  tabernacles  of  the  wicked 
must  be  content  to  share  their  portion,  and  their  pun- 
ishment— at  least,  in  the  present  life.  Nothing  short, 
of  a  total  separation  from  them  can  afford  security:  for 
to  linger  on  the  plain  is  as  hazardous  as  to  tarry  in  the 
city.  "And  Lot  said  unto  them)  Oh,  not  so,  my  Lord*' 
In  the  very  midst  of  danger,  and  while  the  cloud  of 
ruin  hangs  over  his  head,  self  willed  man  cannot  re- 
frain from  opposing  his  opinions  to  the  arrangements  of 
Deity;  and  it  must  be  "according  to  his  mind,"  or  he 
will  scarcely  be  satisfied  with  his  deliverance.  "Behold 
now.  thy  servant  hath  found  grace  in  thy  sight" — 
should  he  therefore  presume?  "and  thou  hast  magni- 
fied thy  mercy,  which  thou  hast  shewed  unto  me  in 
saving  my  life;"  should  he  not  therefore  be  satisfied? 
Is  the  goodness  of  God  a  reason  why  he  should  tempt 
his  forbearance?  "and  I  cannot  escape  to  the  mountain" 
— why  not?  What  shall  hinder  when  God  leads  the 
way?  what  can  successfully  oppose,  when  he  com- 
mands? "lest  some  evil  take  me  and  I  die!"  O  thou  of 
little  faith!  wherefore  didst  thou  doubt?  Was  not  HE, 
who  led  thee  forth  from  the  midst  of  a  people  given 
over  to  utter  desolation,  strong  to  deliver?  Was  he 
not  able  to  preserve  thee?  And  had  he  not  given  a  tac- 
it pledge  of  security,  in  the  very  command  which  he 
issued?  "Behold  now  this  city  is  near  tojlee  unto,  and 
it  is  a  little  one" — it  is  a  small  request  that  I  prefer,  in 
comparison  with  the  unsolicited  mercy  which  thou 
hast  already  manifested;  or,  it  is  a  little  city,  and  may 
wrll  In-  spared  in  so  wide  and  general  a  destruction  as 
thine  offended  justice  meditates — "Oh,  Id  me  escape 
thither,  (is  it  not  a  li'fleoneV)  and  my  soul  shall  live" 


151 

What  is  the  punishment  which  awaits  the  man  who 
dares  to  lift  his  little  plans  to  a  competition  with  the 
wisdom  of  Deity?  Let  us  adore  the  long  suffering  of 
God!  Heaven  lends  a  gracious  ear  to  this  supplication; 
"and  he  said  unto  him,  See,  I  have  accepted  thee  con- 
cerning this  thing  also,  that  I  will  not  overthrow  this 
city,  for  the  which  thou  hast  spoken."  How  consistent 
is  this  with  the  character  of  God,  who  delighteth  to 
have  mercy,  and  to  forgive!  Lot  had  an  high  gratification 
in  seeing  this  little  object  of  his  compassion  escape  the 
devastation  of  its  vicinity,  if  benevolence  urged  his 
plea:  but  if  selfishness  dictated  it,  as  the  narrative 
seems  to  insinuate,  he  was  greatly  disappointed:  for 
although  his  request  was  granted,  his  terrors  suffered 
him  not  to  derive  from  it  the  advantage  which  he  pro- 
posed: since  he  afterwards  abandoned  the  retreat 
which  he  had  chosen,  and  fled  to  the  mountain,  whith- 
er God  had  at  first  directed  him,  "for  he  feared  to 
dwell  in  Zoar."  "Haste  thee,  escape  thither;"  thy 
presence  disarms  my  wrath,  and  withholds  my  right- 
eous vengeance:  '-for  I  cannot  do  any  thing  till  thou 
be  come  thither."  Behold  the  value  and  importance 
of  one  righteous  man?  It  was  the  lip  of  infallible  truth, 
which  said  of  his  disciples — "Ye  are  the  sale  of  the 
earth!"  "Therefore"  In  remembrance  of  the  success- 
ful plea  of  Lot,  "t he  name  of  the  city  was  called  Zo- 
ar."  which  signifies  little,,  and  relates  to  the  argument 
which  its  intercessor  used.  Most  of  the  names,  given 
to  persons,  and  to  things,  in  the  scriptures,  bear  a  ref- 
erence to  some  signal  circumstances,  more  nearly, 
or  remotely,  connected  with  them. 

"  The  sun  was  risen  upon  the  earth  when  Lot  entered 
into  Zoar."  This  calm  is  perfectly  natural,  and  agrees 
with  almost  every  account  transmitted  to  us,  of  tern- 


152 

pests,  earthquakes,  and  great  convulsions  of  nature. 
We  know  that  the  wind  usually  falls,  and  that  there  is 
a  profound  serenity  diffused  over  the  atmosphere,  be- 
fore a  storm.  The  former  part  of  that  day,  in  which 
Lisbon  was  destroyed  by  an  earthquake,  was  uncom- 
monly fine;  and  the  danger  was  not  even  apprehend- 
ed, till  an  unusual  subterraneous  noise,  and  a  slight 
trembling  of  the  ground,  preceded,  for  a  few  moments, 
the  first  great  shock  which  almost  levelled  the  whole 
city.  This  same  agitation  of  the  earth  was  almost  uni- 
versal, and  extended  nearly  over  the  whole  globe;  and 
in  every  place  where  it  was  felt,  the  same  tranquillity 
was  observed  to  reign,  before  the  calamity  was  endured. 
This  calm,  however,  is  unspeakably  dreadful!  Who 
can  read  this  single  verse  without  shuddering?  As  the 
destruction  was  unexpected,  it  was  the  more  terrible;  and 
as  it  was  sudden,  it  admitted  of  no  escape.  The  sons- 
in-law  of  Lot  mocked  his  admonitions;  and  they  were 
roused  to  a  sense  of  their  importance  and  truth,  only 
by  the  hand  of  death.  Let  this  consideration  prepare 
us  for  a  still  greater  event,  in  the  solemnities  of  which 
we  must  all  participate;  and  which  will  be  equally  sud- 
den and  unexpected:  for  "as  it  was  in  the  days  of  Lot, 
even  so  shall  the  coming  of  the  Son  of  man  be!" 

"Then  the  LORD  rained  upon  Sodom  and  upon 
Gomorrah,  brimstone  andjire  from  the  LORD  out  of 
heaven;  and  he  overthrew  those  cities,  and  all  the 
]j(ain,  and  all  the  Inhabitants  of  the  cities,  and  that 
which  grew  iipon  the  ground."  Some  commentators 
translate  the  words  "brimstone  and  firr,"  brimstone 
inflamed;  and  the  interpretation  which  they  build 
upon  this  translation  is.  that  brimstone  inflamed,  in  the 
Hebrew  style  of  writing,  signifies  neither  more  nor 
kss,  than  lightning.  It  is  reasonable  to  conclude,  that 


153 

this  lightning  penetrated  so  far  into  the  veins  of  bitu- 
men, with  which  these  plains  are  known  to  be  impreg- 
nated, as  to  enkindle  the  combustible  matter;  which 
would  quickly  communicate  its  heat  and  flame  to  the 
cities,  and  to  the  whole  country,  more  entirely  and  ex- 
peditiously  than  the  lava  of  a  burning  mountain  lays 
waste  the  lands  over  which  it  flows:  and  after  con- 
suming all  that  was  capable  of  such  a  destruction, 
formed  the  heavy,  fetid,  unwholesome  lake,  called  the 
Dead  Sea,  from  its  wide  expansion,  and  the  stillness 
of  its  waters.  Justin  observes,  respecting  this  sea,  that 
it  cannot  be  moved  by  the  winds,  by  reason  of  the 
large  quantity  of  bitumen  immersed  in  it;  which  also 
renders  it  incapable  of  being  navigated.  The  same 
remark  will  not  be  found  to  apply  to  the  same  sea  in 
the  present  day;  as  we  have  instances  of  some  modern 
travellers  having  ventured  to  bathe  in  it:  but  this  also 
may  be  accounted  for,  on  the  same  principle;  the  di- 
minution of  the  bitumen;  which  is  continually  re- 
moved, by  persons  on  the  spot,  as  it  emerges  from  this 
singular  lake.  Neither  is  it  true,  that  no  bird  will  ad- 
venture to  stretch  his  wing  across  it?  as  some  ancient 
writers  have  asserted:  for  many  have  been  observed  to 
sport  along  its  dreary  banks:  but  the  salt  with  which 
it  is  impregnated  is  inimical  to  vegetation;  its  waves 
retain  a  sufficient  degree  of  malignity  to  endanger  the 
health  of  those  who  are  rash  enough  to  plunge  into 
its  unnatural  waters;  and  it  retains  a  sufficient  degree 
of  desolation,  to  justify  the  description  of  the  destruc- 
tion suggested  in  the  present  Lecture;  and  to  confirm 
the  general  account  of  antiquity,  making  a  reasonable 
allowance  for  the  alterations  which  time  may  be  sup- 
posed to  have  effected. 
20 


154 

"But  his  wife  looked  back  from  behind  him,  and 
she  became  a  pillar  of  salt"  A  learned  writer*  ob- 
serves, '-The  sulphureous  storm  did  not  begin  to  fall 
upon  Sodom,  till  Lot  was  safely  arrived  at  Zoar.  But 
his  wife  looked  back  before  he  reached  Zoar:  for  she 
looked  back^/row  behind  him.  as  he  was  going  to  Zoar. 
When  she  looked  back,  Sodom  and  its  plains  appeared 
as  pleasant  as  before.  She  looked  back  with  affection 
to  the  place,  and  regret  at  leaving  it:  according  to  the 
import  of  the  original  word.  '  This  implied  unbelief." 
She  wavered — "she  stopped  by  the  way,  and  left  her 
husband  to  go  by  himself" — in  the  fluctuations  of  her 
mind,  "she  would  proceed  no  farther;  and  might  be 
at  a  considerable  distance  from  Zoar,  and  so  near  to 
Sodom,  as,  probably,  to  be  involved  in  the  terrible 
shower,  and  thereby  turned  into  a  nitro-sulphureous 
pillar:" — or  at  least  to  be  suffocated  by  it,  and  incrust- 
ed  with  it.  This  gives  proper  force  to  our  Lord's  ad- 
monition, Remember  Lot's  wife.'f  Let  the  judgment 
of  God  upon  her,  warn  you,  of  the  folly  and  danger 
of  hankering  after,  and  being  loath  to  part  with,  small 
and  temporal  things,  when  your  life  and  happiness, 
the  greatest,  and  most  lasting  concerns,  are  at  stake." 

We  lead  you  forwards  to  another  branch  of  evi- 
dence; 

II.    THE  TESTIMONY  OF  ANCIENT   WRITERS. 

It  is  asserted  by  Tacitus,  that  the  traces  of  the  fire 
which  consumed  these  cities  were  visible  in  his  days. 
"At  no  great  distance  are  those  fields,  which,  as  it  is 
said,  were  formerly  fruitful,  and  covered  with  great 

*Hr.  Taylor,  in  his  Scheme  nf  Scripture  Divinity:  now  out  of  print,    but 
preserved  in  Bishop  Walson's  Thcolo.;ii  :tl  I'racts,  vol.  i.chap.  xxv,  p.106. 
I  Luke  xvii,  32. 


155 

cities,  till  they  were  consumed  by  lightning:  the  vesti- 
ges of  whicn  remain  in  the  parched  appearance  oi  the 
country,  which  has  lost  its  fertility.*" 

The  testimony  of  Philot  and  of  Plinyt  accords  with 
that  of  the  Roman  historian. 

Diodorus  Siculus  describes  the  lake  Asphaltites  at 
large,  in  two  different  parts  of  his  work;  and  concludes 
his  account  by  saying,  "The  region  round  about 
burning  with  fire,  exhales  a  stench  so  intolerable,  that 
the  bodies  of  the  inhabitants  are  diseased,  and  their 
lives  contracted. §" 

Strabo,  in  writing  on  the  same  subject,  thus  con- 
cludes: "There  are  many  indications  that  fire  has  been 
over  this  country:  for  about  Masada  they  shew  rough 
and  scorched  rocks,  and  caverns  in  many  places  eaten 
in,  arid  the  earth  reduced  to  ashes,  apd  drops  of  pitch 
distilling  from  the  rocks,  and  hot  streams,  offensive  afar 
off,  and  habitations  overthrown;  which  renders  credi- 
ble, some  reports  among  the  inhabitants,  that  there 
were  formerly  thirteen  cities  on  that  spot,  the  principal 
of  which  was  Sodom;  so  extensive  as  to  be  sixty  fur- 
longs in  circumference;  but  that  by  earthquakes,  and 
an  eruption  of  fire,  and  by  hot  and  bituminous  waters, 
it  became  a  lake  as  it  now  is;  the  rocks  were  con* 
sumed,  some  of  the  cities  were  swallowed  up,  and  oth- 
ers abandoned  by  those  of  the  inhabitants  who  were 
able  to  escape  || . 

Similar  to  this  is  the  language  of  Solinus.  "At  a 
considerable  distance  from  Jerusalem,  a  frightful  lake 
extends  itself,  which  has  been  struck  by  lightning,  as 
is  evident  from  the  ground,  black;  and  reduced  to 
ashes."Tf  He  goes  on  to  relate  the  fable  of  the  applet 

•Tacit.  Hist.  lib.  v.  fPhilo  de  Vita  Mosis. 

*Plin.  Hist.  lib.  v.  cap.  16.  §Diod.  Sic-  lib.  ii.  ef  lib.  xi>, 

IjStraba.  lib.  xvi.  ^Solinus,  cap,  xxxyi,  edit,  Salroai1-' 


156 

growing  near  it,  which  were  said  to  appear  fair  to  the 
eye,  but  to  contain  only  sooty  ashes,  and  upon  being 
touched,  to  exhale  into  smoke,  or  to  vanish  into  dust. 
The  same  fiction  is  mentioned  also  by  Tacitus:  but  we 
must  learn,  in  receiving  the  testimony  of  ancient  histo- 
rians, to  distinguish  between  truth  and  fable,  to  separ- 
ate the  former  from  the  latter,  with  which  it  is  often 
found  overwhelmed,  to  discriminate  between  the  fact 
and  the  legend,  to  divide  that  which  they  saw,  from 
that  which  they  admitted  only  from  tradition,  to  make 
allowance  for  their  credulity,  and  impartially  to  weigh 
the  evidence  which  they  produce.  Moses  is  not  an- 
swerable for  the  fondness  which  they  discovered  for 
the  marvellous,  nor  for  the  fables  which  tradition 
blended  with  his  history  Neither  is  their  ac- 
count of  that  which  they  saw,  to  be  rejected  for  the 
easy  credit  which  they  gave  to  that  which  they  only 
heard,  and  heard  from  disputable  authority.  While 
the  facts  of  the  Mosaic  history  are  confirmed,  his  su- 
perior purity,  and  consequently  credibility  is  estab- 
lished. 

Among  the  moderns,  Bissciius  in  his  treatise  on 
illustrious  ruins,  and  a  great  number  of  travellers,  have 
described  this  singular  lake.  Maundrel,  Volney,  Po- 
cocke,  Shaw,  and  other  men  of  eminence,  have  com- 
municated to  the  pi.'blic  the  result  of  their  observations. 

Alexander  Tnillianus  mentions  an  heuthrn  form  of 
exorcism,  that  confirm*  the  srriptwo  rrpn Dentation  of 
the  calamity  which  oveilouk  Lot's  \\ifc.  It  runs 
thus — uln  the  name  rf  (ind,  who  turned  Lot's  wile 
into  a  pillar  of  salt. r*  We  have  yet  to  examine 

f 

•  l~)o(M    I  294,  quarto  edition. 

Consult  C  •    uholc  of  OH  «M- 

,  note   3,  ofilu-  •  <>f  the  volume. 


157 

HI.    THE  EVIDENCES    REMAINING    ON   THE    SPOT. 

We  remark, 

1.     THE     APPEARANCE   OF    THE   LAKE,   AND   OF    THE 
SURROUNDING    COUNTRY,  HAS  BEEN    VERY    SIMILAR   IN 

EVERY  AGE.  It  has  carried  the  same  mournful  vesti- 
ges of  destruction.  Not  only  do  the  respective  testi- 
monies of  ancient  writers  agree  with  each  other,  but 
the  several  subsequent  representations  of  this  fact,  giv- 
en in  the  Bible,  accord  entirely  with  the  Mosaic  his- 
tory: a  decisive  proof  that  the  spot  has  carried  the  same 
features  of  ruin  from  the  first;  and  a  pleasing  evidence 
that  the  sacred  writings  preserve  the  most  perfect  har- 
mony with  themselves.  A  selection  of  a  few  passa- 
ges, written  at  various  and  distinct  periods,  will  exhibit 
the  appearances  of  these  desolated  cities,  as  they  pre- 
sented themselves  to  the  different  writers;  and  will 
furnish  a  coincidence  and  concord  which  truth  alone 
can  produce.  It  is  worthy  consideration,  that,  in  these 
several  passages,  appeals  are  made  to  this  fact  as  an 
event  well  known,  and  a  subject  on  which  the  world 
were,  at  that  time,  able  to  obtain  ample  satisfaction,  by 
visiting,  and  considering,  the  spot  itself.  Moses  refers 
the  Israelites  of  his  day,  to  the  appearance  which  these 
wasted  plains  then  presented,  as  an  image  of  what 
their  own  possessions  would  become  if  they  disobeyed 
the  commands  of  God.  He  threatens — "The  genera- 
tion to  come  of  your  children  that  shall  rise  up  after 
you,  and  the  stranger  that  shall  come  from  a  far  land, 
shall  say,  when  they  see  the  plagues  of  that  land,  and 
the  sicknesses  which  the  LORD  hath  laid  upon  it;  and 
that  the  whole  land  thereof  is  brimstone,  and  salt,  and 
burning,  that  It  is  not  sown,  nor  beareth,  nor  any 
grass  groweth  therein,  LIKE  THE  OVERTHROW  oy 
SODOM,  AND  GOMORRAH,  ADMAH,  AND  ZEBOIM, 


158 

WHICH    THE   LORD   OVERTHREW    IN     HIS    ANGER,     AND 

IN  HIS  WRATH:  even  all  the  nations  shall  say,  Where- 
fore bp'h  the  LORD  done  thus  unto  this  land?  what 
mean  .th  the  heat  of  this  great  anger?  Then  men  shall 
say,  Because  they  have  forsaken  the  covenant  of  the 
LORD  God  of  their  fathers;  which  he  made  with 
them  when  he  brought  them  forth  out  of  the  land  of 
Egypt."*  When  Babylon  is  threatened,  another  ap- 
peal is  made  to  this  event,  as  to  a  fact  well  known, 
and  indisputably  authenticated.  Isaiah  proclaims  her 
fall,  and  this  is  her  awful  sentence:  "Babylon,  the  glory 
of  kingdoms,  the  beauty  of  the  Chaldees'  excellency, 
shall  be  AS  WHEN  GOD  OVERTHREW  SODOM  AND 
GOMORRAH.  It  shall  never  be  inhabited,  neither  shall 
it  be  dwelt  in  from  generation  to  generation:  neither 
shall  the  Arabian  pitch  tent  there,  neither  shall  the 
shepherds  make  their  fold  there."!  Jeremiah  beheld 
the  same  face  of  things  when  he  made  these  ruins  pre- 
figure the  downfall  of  Edom.  "Edom  shall  be  a  des- 
olation: every  one  that  goeth  by  it  shall  be  astonished, 
and  shall  hiss  at  all  the  plagues  thereof.  As  IN  THE 

OVERTHROW    OF     SoDOM     AND     GOMORRAH,     and     the 

neighboring  cities  thereof,  saith  the  LORD,  no  man 
shall  abide  there,  neither  shall  the  son  of  man  dwell 
in  &"J  Jesus,  who  is  Truth  itself,  appeals  to  the 
same  desolation,  and  to  all  its  circumstances,  as  an 
image  of  his  own  visitation  of  the  Jewish  nation. 
"As  it  was  in  the  days  of  Lot;  they  did  eat,  they 
drank,  they  bought,  they  sold,  they  planted,  they 
buildcd;  but  the  same  day  that  Lot  went  out  of  Sod- 
om, it  i  I- 1  UK  .AM)  IJKIM  STONE  FKOM  HEAVEN, 

and  destroyed  them  all.     Even  thus  shall  it  be  in  the 

*  Dent.  x\  f  Is-  xiii,  19,  CO.  ;•  xlix,  17,  IB,  L.  40- 


159 

day  when  the  Son  of  man  is  revealed.     In  that  day, 
he  which  shall  be  upon  the  house  top,*   and  his  stuff 
in  the  house,  let  him  not  come  down  to  take  it  away: 
and  he  that  is  in  the  field,  let  him  likewise  not  return 
back.    REMEMBER  LOT'S  WIFE!"     The  apostle  Peter, 
in  the  passage  read  at  the  commencement  of  this  Lec- 
ture, admits  this  fact  into  the  catalogue  of  divine  judg- 
ments against  iniquity;  and  represents  the  offended  and 
insulted  Deity,  "TURNING  THE  CITIES  OF  SODOM  AND 
GOMORRAH  FNTO  ASHES,  condemning  them  with  an 
overthrow,  and  making  them  an  ensample  unto  those 
that  after  should  live  ungodly."     While  the  writers  of 
the  scriptures  thus  strengthen  one  another,  they  evince 
that  the  same  characteristic  ruin,  has  through  all  ages, 
overspread  the  same  country.     We  observe 

2.  THERE  REMAIN   CORRESPONDENT  FEATURES   OF 
DESOLATION  ON  THE  SPOT  TO  THIS  DAY.    It  is  readily 
admitted,  that  travellers  who  visit  the  country  in  ques- 
tion are  liable  to  be  deceived;  and  that  in  many  instan- 
ces the  inhabitants  of  the   surrounding  regions  have 
imposed  upon  them.     Josephus  has  asserted  that  the 
pillar  of  salt  was  to  be  seen  in  his  days,  and  that  he 
actually  saw  it.     It  is  disputable,  how  far  this  testimo- 
ny may  be  received;  not  that  we  bring  the  charge  of 
wilful  misrepresentation   against   him,  but  that  it  is 
probable  he  was  himself  deceived.     The  same  credu- 
lity which  led  him  to  admit  the  account  of  a  sabbati- 
cal river,  would  easily  induce  him,  visiting  the  lake, 
as  he  did,  with  a  rnind  prepossessed  in  favor  of  some 
such  monument  of  antiquity  remaining,  to  mistake 
some  rude,  mishapen  rock,  for  a  crumbling  fragment 
of  the  pillar  of  which  Moses   speaks.     Nevertheless, 

*  These  houses  had  flat  roofs,  and  an  ascent  to  them  on  the  outside:  of 
course  a  person  at  the  top  would  descend  without  entering  the  house, 
t  Luke  xvii,  28—32. 


we  think  that  the  general  features  of  the  country,  and 
particularly  the  lake,  are  standing  memorials  of  this 
awful  fact.  Some  indeed  have  denied  that  the  cities 
stood  upon  this  spot.  But  it  must  be  admitted  that 
the  universal  appearance  of  the  land  sanctions  the 
common  opinion,  that  here  judgment  was  executed 
against  the  unrighteous  inhabitants  of  Sodom.  The 
description  of  the  face  of  that  unhappy  country,  given 
in  the  passages  which  we  have  quoted  from  the  scrip- 
tures, and  transcribed  from  ancient  historians,  accords 
well  with  the  whole  aspect  of  the  vicinity  of  the  Dead 
Sea.  The  country  is  stripped  of  herbage;  the  lake, 
and  the  soil,  are  salt  and  bituminous;  and  vegetable 
life  seems  extinct  on  all  its  borders.  It  would  be  diffi- 
cult to  fix  upon  any  other  spot  in  the  known  world, 
to  which  the  principal  features  of  the  narrative  would 
apply.  It  is  to  be  supposed,  from  the  uniform  lan- 
guage of  the  Bible,  that  the  destruction  of  these  cities 
was  to  be  a  lasting  monument  of  divine  displeasure 
against  their  wickedness:  consequently  that  strong 
vestiges  of  their  desolation  should  remain  through  ev- 
ery age.  It  is  certain  that  all  the  ancient  historians 
who  have  adverted  at  a!l  to  this  singularly  awful  dis- 
play of  divine  justice,  have  also  fixed  upon  this  place, 
as  the  theatre  on  which  :t  was  exhibited.  It  is  no  less 
remarkable,  that  all  who  have  described  this  lake,  and 
its  vicinity,  have  connected  with  it  a  tradition,  more 
or  less  explicit,  respecting  the  destruction  of  the  cities 
of  the  plain;  and  some  of  them  were  men  to  whom  it 
arcely  probable,  that  the  writings  of  Moses  were 
ssible;  and  who  must  therefore  have  received  the 
knowledge  of  the  event  through  some  other  channel. 
May  we  not  also  reasonably  suppose  that  some  chan- 
ges  have  been  effected  by  time,  which  have  considera- 


161 

bly  altered  the  aspect,  and  even  the  properties  of  the 
waters,  since  the  ancient  writers,  whom  we  have  quot- 
ed, visited  this  land  of  barren  solitude?  Time,  which 
alters  the  whole  globe,  and  overturns  empires,  would 
not  spare  the  Dead  Sea,  and  its  deserted,  naked  shores! 
Jordan  perpetually  roils  his  tide  to  this  gulf:  streams 
of  fresh  water  are  continually  pouring  into  it:  the 
Arabs  diminish  its  salt,  by  draining  its  water  into 
large  pits  near  the  lake,  leaving  it  to  be  crystallized  by 
the  sun;  and  its  bitumen  is  gathered  by  the  same  peo- 
ple, whose  ingenuity  applies  it  to  many  purposes,  and 
who  convert  it  into  an  article  of  commerce.  We  still 
think,  that  the  spot  manifests  marked  features  of  deso- 
lation at  this  hour;  and  the  lake  is  said  to  be  about 
thirty  miles  long,  and  ten  miles  broad. 

Before  this  subject  is  entirely  dismissed,  permit  us 
to  make  two  remarks,  which  appear  to  arise  out  of  it. 

1.  JUDGMENTS  DELAYED  WILL  YET  EVENTUALLY 
BE  EXECUTED.  To  other  sins,  the  ungodly  add  that 
of  presumption.  Because  serenity  reigns  over  the  face 
of  the  heavens,  they  apprehend  no  evil — they  conclude 
that  the  tempest  will  never  rise.  When  the  cloud  ap- 
pears "like  a  man's  hand,"  they  flatter  themselves  that 
it  will  extend  no  farther.  When  you  warn  them  of 
their  danger,  and  foretel  their  approaching  ruin,  they 
regard  you  as  uone  that  mocketh."  Even  when  the 
heavens  are  overspread  with  blackness,  and  the  thun- 
der of  indignation  begins  to  roll,  they  imagine  that  the 
storm  will  spend  itself,  and  that  the  gloom  will  pass 
away.  But  the  day  will  arrive  when  the  Savior  shall 
appear  "to  be  admired  in  them  that  believe,'7  and  to 
return  on  the  head  of  his  adversaries,  the  evil  which 
they  have  devised  against  his  dignity;  and  that  day 
21 


162 

shall  "burn  as  an  oven."*  In  vain  shall  the  unright- 
eous then  cry  for  help,  and  seek  a  refuge  from  the 
wrath  of  their  judge.  In  vain  shall  they  turn  to  the 
east,  the  west,  the  north,  or  the  south;  every  where 
the  sword  of  justice  meets  their  eye — every  where  the 
tribunal  of  God  rises  before  their  sight — every  where 
the  clangor  of  the  last  trumpet  assails  their  ears — 
and  the  grave  itself  forms  no  shelter  from  the  gaze  of 
Omnipotence!  In  vain  shall  they  call  upon  the  rocks 
to  fall  on  them,  and  the  mountains  to  cover  them:  the 
earth  and  the  heavens  shall  flee  from  the  face  of  ''Him 
that  sitteth  upon  the  throne."  '-Now  is  the  accepted 
time:  behold,  now  is  the  day  of  salvation!" 

2.  SECURITY  IN  EVERY  SITUATION,  BELONGS  TO 
THE  FRIENDS  OF  GOD.  You  have  seen  Noah  floating 
securely  on  the  bosom  of  a  destroying  flood,  while  the 
whole  world  perished.  You  have  beheld  Lot  safely 
conducted  out  of  Sodom,  when  the  inhabitants  of  the 
plain,  and  the  perverse  scoffers  of  his  own  family, 
were  consumed.  What  is  the  language  of  this  dread- 
ful event  to  the  respective  classes  of  mankind?  To  the 
"ungodly"  it  is  saying — "Behold,  yc  despisers,  and 
wonder,  and  perish!"  To  you,  who  cast  your  eyes 
over  these  desolated  plains,  it  cries — "Escape  for  your 
life" — flee  to  a  refuge  more  secure  than  the  mountain 
— and  hide  under  the  shadow  of  the  cross!  But  what 
is  its  testimony  respecting  the  people  of  God?  "They 
shall  not  be  afraid  for  the  terror  by  night:  nor  for  the 
arrow  that  flieth  by  day:  nor  for  the  pestilence  that 
walketh  in  darkness:  nor  forth* destruction  that  wa^t 
cth  at  noonday.  A  thousand  shall  fall  at  their  side, 
ten  thousand  at  their  right  hand:  but  it  shall  not 

*  Sec  note  4,  of'ihis  Li-c'.uic,  at  ll»e  end  of  the  volume. 


163 

come  nigh  them!  Only  with  their  eyes  shall  they  be- 
hold, and  see  the  reward  of  the  wicked."  The  last 
storm  which  shall  arise  to  blot  out  the  sun,  to  extin 
guish  the  stars,  to  rend  the  sepulchre,  and  to  raise  the 
dead,  shall  waft  them  to  an  everlasting  kingdom. 
They  shall  meet  the  Lord  in,  the  air:  they  shall  be 
changed  into  his  image:  they  shall  appear  with  him  in 
glory. 

O  Christian,  death  is  advancing  to  conduct  thee 
home,  to  terminate  thine  afflictions,  and  to  hide  the? 
for  ever  from  the  storms  of  life!  Even  now  the  mo- 
ment arrives!  Hark — the  trampling  of  the  horses  at 
the  door — and  the  "chariot  of  fire'7  waits  to  bear  theo 
to  heaven! 


LECTURE  VI. 

THE  HISTORY  OF  JOSEPH. 

GENESIS  XLIX,  22 — 26. 

Joseph  is  a  fruitful  bough,  even  a  fruitful  bough  by  a 
'well,  whose  branches  run  over  the  wall.  The  arch- 
ers  have  sorely  grieved  him,  and  shot  at  him,  and 
hated  him:  But  his  bow  abode  in  strength,  and  the 
arms  of  his  hands  were  made  strong  by  the  hands 
of  the  might y  God  of  Jacob:  (from  thence  is  the 
Shepherd,  the  stone  of  Israel:)  Even  by  the  God  of 
thy  father,  who  shall  help  thee;  and  by  the  Almigh- 
ty, who  shall  bless  thce  with  the  blessings  of  heav- 
en above,  blessings  of  the  deep  that  lieth  under, 
blessings  of  the  breasts  and  of  the  womb:  The  bles- 
sings of  thy  father  have  prevailed  above  the  bles- 
sings of  thy  progenitors,  unto  the  utmost  bound  of 
the  everlasting  hills;  they  shall  be  on  the  head  of 
Joseph,  and  on  the  crown  of  the  head  of  him  that 
was  separate  from  his  brethren. 

ACTS  VII,  9  — 16. 

And  the  patriarchs,  moved  with  envy,  sold  Joseph 
into  Egypf:  but  God  was  with  him.  and  adivercd 
him  out  of  all  his  ajji'ictions,  and  gave  Jinn  favor 
and  wisdom  in  the  sight  of  l*haraoli,  king  of  Egypt; 
and  he  made,  linn  governor  over  Egypt,  und  all  his 
house.  Now  there  came  a  dearth  over  all  the  land 
of  Egypt  and  Canaan,  and  great  affliction:  and 
our  fathers  found  no  xm'tcndnce.  But  when  Jacob 
heared  that  there  teas  corn  in  Egypt,  he  sent  out 


165 

our  fathers  first.  And  at  the  second  time  Joseph 
was  made  known  to  his  brethren;  and  Joseph  W 
kindred  was  made  known  unto  Pharaoh.  Then 
sent  Joseph,  and  called  his  father  Jacob  to  him,  and 
all  his  kindred,  threescore  and  fifteen  souls.  So 
Jacob  went  down  into  Egypt,  and  died,  he,  and  our 
fathers,  and  were  carried  over  into  Sychem,  and 
laid  in  the  sepulchre  that  Abraham  bought  for  a 
sum  of  money  of  the  sons  of  Emmor,  the  father  of 
Sychem. 

TO  enter  at  large  into  the  beautiful  history  that  con- 
nects the  preceding  Lecture  with  the  subject  which  we 
are  about  to  propose  for  consideration,  is  not  practica- 
ble; we  must  therefore  imitate  travellers  in  a  foreign 
country,  whose  limited  time  will  not  permit  them  to 
pass  through  the  land  in  the  length  and  the  breadth  of 
it — \ve  must  inquire  what  things  are  most  worthy  our 
regard,  and  to  them  bend  our  attention.  There  are 
two  events  previous  to  THE  HISTORY  OF  JOSEPH,  which 
require  us  to  pause,  and  to  indulge  the  common  feel- 
ings of  nature,  and  which  cannot  fail  to  impress,  be- 
cause they  speak  at  once  to  the  heart.  It  is  impossible 
to  pass  through  Canaan  without  turning  aside  to  the  land 
of  Moriah,  and  contemplating  the  sacred  mountain  on 
which  a  patriarch's  faith  triumphed  over  a  father's 
feelings.  According  to  the  promise  of  God,  Isaac  was 
born  when  Abraham  was  an  hundred  years  old.  He. 
had  seen  his  son  preserved  from  the  perils  of  infancy. 
His  mother  had  gazed  with  unspeakable  pleasure  up- 
on her  child — the  son  of  her  vows,  who  was  now  fast 
pressing  towards  manhood.  The  parents  of  this  ami- 
able youth  were  looking  forwards  to  a  peaceful  dismis- 
sion from  the  toils  of  life,  and  to  the  happy  te'rmina- 


160 

lion  of  a  tranquil  old  age.  Abraham  "planted  a  grove 
in  Beersheba,"  and  rested  under  its  shadow.  This 
quiet  retreat,  alas,  is  not  impervious  to  sorrow!  This 
delightful  scenery  resembles  the  stillness  of  the  air 
which  usually  precedes  a- tern  pest — it  bodes  approach- 
ing trial.  "And  it  came  to  pass  after  these  things,  that 
G^d  did  tempt  Abraham,  and  said  unto  him — Take 
now  thy  son,  thine  only  son  Isaac,  whom  thou  lovest, 
and  get  thee  into  (he  land  of  Moriah:  and  offer  him 
there  for  a  burnt-offering  upon  one  of  the  mountains 
which  I  shall  tell  thee  of." — What  a  command  was 
this!  To  stain  his  hand  with  the  blood  of  a  lamb 
which  he  had  feJ,  would  be  a  task  to  a  feeling  mind: 
but  thi^  requisition  is  for  a  "Son."  To  select  one.  from 
a  nu.  T«H.--  .  would  be  a  cruel  effort.  Let  the 

mother  look  round  upon  her  children,  when  they  are 
assembled  before  her  like  a  flock,  and  say,  which  she 
could  spare  from  among  them?  But  the  demand  is? 
"take  thine  only  son" — in  whom  the  life  of  both  par- 
ents is  bound  up.  To  part  with  an  only  child  for  a 
season,  opens  the  fountain  of  a  mother's  tears,  and 
adds  to  the  grey  hairs  of  his  father.  To  lose  him  by 
death,  is  to  cause  them  to  go  bitterly  in  the  anguish  of 
their  soul  all  their  days.  \Vh;it  was  it,  then,  to  offer 
an  only  son  as  a  Sacrifice,  and  to  be  himself  the  priest 
who  should  plunge  the  knife  into  his  bosom?  But  he 
obeys — obeys  without  a  murmur!  He  rises  early  in 
the  morning  to  immolate  his  child,  and  to  offer,  on  tho 
altar  of  God.  all  that  he  held  most  dear  in  this  world. 
On  the  third  day,  the  destined  mountain  marks  its  el- 
'•valion  alon^  tin-  line  of  the horizon,  and  meets  the 
eye  of  the  a!il:rh-d  parent.  The  servants  are  not  per- 
mitted to  witness  the  awful  scene,  the  solemnity  of 
which  they  m^ht  disturb  by  lamentations — or  the  c\- 


167 

reution  of  which  they  might  prevent  by  force— or, 
wanting  their  master's  faith,  might  draw  from  it;  infer- 
ences unfavorable  to  religion.  At  this  moment,  to 
awaken  in  his  bosom  extreme  torture,  "Isaac  spake 
unto  Abraham  hia  father  and  said,  My  father:  and  lie 
said,  here  am  I,  my  son.  And  he  said  behold  the  fire 
and  the  wood:  but  where  is  a  lamb  for  a  burnt  offer- 
ing? And  Abraham  said,  My  son,  God  shall  provide 
himself  a  lamb  for  a  burnt  ottering:  so  they  went 
both  of  them  together.5' — But  we  will  no  longer  at- 

o  o 

tempt  to  scent  the  violet,  and  to  paint  the  rainbow. 
We  must  draw  a  veil  oVer  the  scene:  for  who  can  en- 
ter into  a  father's  anguish  as  he  raised  his  hand  against 
his  child?  and  who  shall  be  bold  enough  to  attempt 
a  description  of  his  rapture,  when  heaven,  which  had 
put  his  faith  to  so  severe  a  trial,  commanded  him  to 
forbear,  and  indeed  provided  itself  a  victim? 

Before  we  enter  upon  the  immediate  subject  of  this 
evening's  discussion,  humanity  requires  us  to  drop  a 
tear,  also,  over  the  grave  of  the  once  lovely  Sarah,  who 
"died  in  Kirjath-arba."  Twelve  years  after  the  trial  of 
his  faith,  this  heavy  stroke  of  calamity  fell  upon  him; 
"and  Abraham  came  to  mourn  for  Sarah,  and  to  weep 
for  her." — Let  not  the  unfeeling,  and  the  gay,  break 
in  upon  the  sacred  privacy  of  domestic  sorrow!  It  is 
not  the  semblance  of  grief,  which  spreads  a  cloud  over 
the  forehead  of  yonder  venerable  patriarch:  real  and 
unaffected  anguish  causes  those  tears  to  flow.  She  had 
been  long  the  companion  of  his  life — she  had  shared 
his  joys  and  sorrows — she  had  sojourned  in  tents  with 
him,  a  stranger  in  a  strange  land — she  had  regarded 
him  with  fondness  up  to  her  hundred  and  twenty-sev- 
enth year.  Her  communion  and  friendship  had 
sweetened  his  distresses,  and  lightened  his  labors.  The 


168 

dissolving  of  this  long  connexion  was  loosening  the  fibres 
which  entwined  about  his  heart;  and  while  he  exhibit, 
ed  the  resignation  of  a  saint,  he  felt  as  a  man.  Before 
"the  cave  of  the  field  of  Machpelah"  closes  its  mouth 
for  ever  upon  the  precious  dust,  let  the  young  and  the 
beautiful  come,  and  look,  for  the  last  time,  upon  the 
person  whose  loveliness  had  kindled  desire  in  every 
bosom,  and  had  more  than  once  ensnared  her  husband. 
Let  them  gaze  upon  the  dishonor  of  that,  which  even 
time  had  respected,  and  age  had  spared.  Let  them 
learn  a  lesson  of  humility,  while  they  behold  the  tri- 
umphs of  death,  and  hear  a  husband  entreating  "a 
possession  of  a  burying  place,  that  he  may  bury  his 
dead  out  of  his  sight,"  and  hide  that  form  from  his 
eyes,  which  he  had  never  before  beheld  but  with  rap- 
turous delight! 

We  pass  over  the  events  which  occupied  the  few 
remaining  years  of  the  life  of  Abraham,  and  the  inter- 
esting account  of  the  marriage  of  Isaac.  We  leave 
his  two  sons,  to  bury  in  the  grave  of  their  father  their 
mutual  animosities;  and  we  commit  the  dust  of  that 
putriarch  in  silence,  to  rest  by  the  side  of  his  beloved 
Sarah,  till  the  morning  of  the  resurrection.  We  pass 
over  the  life  of  Isaac,  whose  disposition,  according 
with  the  kind  dispensations  of  Providence,  led  him  to 
prefer  the  tranquillity  of  domestic  life,  to  the*  noise  of 
state,  and  to  the  applause  of  fame;  and  who  was  ua 
plain  man,  dwelling  in  touts."  In  the  bosom  of  bis 
family,  old  age  stole  upon  him,  and  he  heard  the  voice 
of  years  calling  him  to  rest  with  his  father  Abraham. 
The  fraud  of  Jacob,  and  the  sanguinary  disposition  of 
ii,  must  uliko,  be  overlooked;  nor  can  \vc  pause  to 
comment  upon  that  which  might  furnish  so  much  in- 
struction— the  sad  consequences  of  the  deception 


169 

which  he  practised  upon  his  father.  Sin  necessarily 
brings  with  it  its  own  punishment;  and  it  made  even 
this  tavored  child  an  alien  from  his  father's  house,  and 
worse  than  a  servant  in  the  family  of  an  avaricious,  un- 
feeling, unprincipled  relation.  His  mother,  whose  par- 
tiality to  him  projected  and  executed  the  plan  for  which 
they  both  suffered  so  much  in  the  event,  advised  him 
to  flee  into  Mesopotamia,  and  to  "tarry  for  a  few 
days  with  his  uncle  Laban,  till  his  brother's  fury  should 
turn  away."  Alas!  more  than  twenty  years  elapsed, 
while  he  was  a  sojourner  at  Padan-aram;  and  when 
he  returned  to  the  tent  of  his  father,  the  maternal  anx- 
ieties and  sorrows  of  Rebekah,  werj  buried  with  her, 
deep  and  silent,  in  the  dust  of  death!  We  must  drop 
these  instructive  records,  and  meet  Jacob  restored  to 
his  father,  just  in  time  to  close  his  eyes:  and  regarding 
him  henceforward  but  as  the  father  of  Joseph,  we 
must  bring  forwards  so  much  cf  his  history  only,  as  is 
interwoven  with  the  life  and  trials  of  his  beloved  son. 
.  Rachel  had  said  uGive  me  children,  or  else  I  die! ' 
How  little  do  we  know  when  our  petitions  are  profitable 
to  us,  and  when  they  will  prove  injurious,  if  answered 
in  our  own  way!  Not  through  the  rejection,  but  in 
the  fulfilment,  of  her  desire — Rachel  dies!  That  pillar, 
which  solicits,  the  eye  of  the  traveller  in  the  way  to 
Ephrath,  tells  a  mournful  story.  It  says,  ''that  the 
hand  of  affection  elevated  it,  as  a  memorial  of  "'depart- 
ed joys,  to  point  out  the  spot  where  a  husband  lost 
the  delight  of  his  eyes,  taken  away  at  a  stroke;  that  a 
mother  was  slain  upon  her  bed  by  the  accomplish- 
ment of  her  wish:  that  the  cup  of  anticipated  pleasure 
was  dashed  from  her  pale  lips  before  she  tasted  its 
sweet  u'ss;  and  that  the  man-child,  so  long  desired  as 
the  summit  of  her  earthlv  ambition,  was  named,  as 
22 


170 

her  soul  was  in  departing,  BENONI!"  This  is  its  sad 
inscription — and  this  is  the  grave  of  the  mother  of 
JOSEPH! 

Introduced  under  these  circumstances,  how  inter- 
esting he  appears  to  every  feeling  mind!  A  child  rob- 
bed of  his  mother,  'excites  universal  commisseration, 
and  commands  affection  from  every  bosom.  We 
look  forwards  with  anxiety  to  every  future  period  of 
his  life;  and  our  prayers,  and  our  hopes,  attend  every 
step  of  his  journey.  We  mingle  our  tears  with  his, 
on  the  grave  of  her,  whose  maternal  heart  lias  ceased 
to  beat:  for  we  feel  that  he  is  bereaved  of  the  friend 
and  guide  of  his  youth!  His  father  would,  but  cannot, 
supply  her  loss.  In  vain  the  whole  circle  of  his  friend- 
ships blend  their  efforts  to  alleviate  his  sorrows,  and  to 
fill  the  place  occupied  by  departed  worth:  a  mother 
mast  be  missed  every  moment,  by  a  child  who  has 
ever  known,  and  rightly  valued  one,  when  she  sleeps 
in  the  grave.  No  hand  feels  so  soft  as  her's — no  voice 
>ounds  so  sweet — no  smile  is  so  pleasant!  Never  shall 
he  find  again,  in  this  wide  wilderness,  such  sympathy, 
such  fondness,  such  fidelity,  such  tenderness,  as  he  ex- 
perienced from  his  mother!  The  whole  world  are  mov- 
ed with  compassion  for  that  motherless  child:  but  the 
whole  world  cannot  supply  her  place  to  him! — And  to 
interest  your  feelings,  you  are  first  made  acquainted 
with  Joseph,  at  a  period  when  he  had  lost  the  smile, 
and  the  superintcndance,  of  his  mother! 

The  history  of  his  life  opens  upon  us,  also,  when 
he  was  of  an  age  to  command  aftection,  and  to  excite 
solicitude.  -Joseph,  being  seventeen  years  old,  was 
•ig  the  flock  with  his  brethren/'  A  youth  of  sev- 
ifl  placed  in  delicate,  and  dangerous,  circumstan- 
ces: he  feels  new  passions  and  desires:  he  is  assailed  by 


171 

new  scenes  and  temptations:  he  is  entering  the  most 
perilous  path  of  lite,  with  an  immature  ji^inent,  a 
vivid  and  deceptive  imagination,  a  mind  inexperienced 
and  impressible;  and  his  whole  life  will  be  deeply  af- 
fected by  the  habits  which  he  forms,  and  the  princi- 
ples which  he  assumes,  at  this  early  period.  He,  who 
has  weathered  the  storms,  and  experienced  the  wiles 
of  life,  feels  much  solicitude  for  the  unsuspicious  youth 
in  taking  this  first  step,  which  may,  perhaps,  for  ever 
afterwards,  decide  his  character.  The  selection  of  his 
society  is  an  important  concern:  he  will  be  moulded 
into  their  image,  and  will  be  deeply  influenced  by  their 
example.  Joseph  associated  with  his  brethren;  and  it 
is  fit,  it  is  desirable,  that  "brethren  should  dwell  togeth- 
er in  unity;"  but  experience  teaches,  that  brethren  are 
not  always  the  most  suitable  companions  for  each 
other:  too  much  is  frequently  expected  on  both  sides, 
of  compliance,  submission,  or  attention,  and  the  bonds 
of  peace  are  broken  asunder.  Something  like  this, 
appears  to  have  been  the  case  in  the  family  of  Jacob: 
for  "the  lad  was  with  the  sons  of  Bilbah,  and  with 
the  sons  of  Zilpah,  his  father's  wives:  and  Joseph 
brought  unto  his  father  their  evil  report."  In  this  one 
instance,  he  does  not  appear  in  the  most  amiable  light: 
for,  in  every  point  of  view,  a  talebearer  is  an  odious, 
and  a  dangerous  person. 

"Now  Israel  loved  Joseph  more  than  all  his  .chil- 
dren, because  he  was  the  son  of  his  old  age:  and  he 
made  him  a  coat  of  many  colors."  Here  lies  the  se- 
cret spring  of  all  the  subsequent  afflictions,  both  of  the 
parent,  and  of  the  child!  Could  any  thing  excuse  pa- 
rental partiality,  the  reasons  alleged  would  do  it:  but 
it  is  not  to  be  excused;  and  he,  who  would  keep  his 
best  beloved  safely,  must  not  make  it  known  that  hf- 


is  the  best  beloved:  for  it  is  a  piece  of  injustice,  which 
nature,  in  the  bosom  of  a  brother,  will  never  pardon. 
And  the  fond  father  must  publish  his  weakness,  by 
bestowing  a  mark  of  superior  affection  upon  his  darl- 
ing boy,  which  would  always  meet  the  eye  of  his 
brethren,  and  never  could  be  seen  without  exciting  the 
worst  of  passions!  Ah,  Jacob!  what  are  all  the  suffer- 
ings of  thy  younger  life  forgotten?  Did  not  parental 
partiality  drive  thee  from  the  shadow  of  a  father's  tent, 
and  the  embraces  of  a  mother's  arms,  to  want  and  to 
servitude?  Yet  all  the  afflictions  which  he  endured  in 
the  service  of  Laban,  and  all  that  he  apprehended  from 
the  murderous  sword  of  Esau:  all  that  he  feared,  and 
all  that  he  felt;  had  not  guarded  his  heart  against  the 
very  weakness  which  had  caused  all  his  troubles.  The 
result  was,  what  might  have  been  expected — "When 
his  brethren  saw  that  his  father  loved  him  more  than 
all  his  brethren,  they  hated  him,  and  could  not  speak 
rably  unto  him."  When  a  parent  feds,  and  dis- 
covers, partiality  to  any  one  child  above  another,  he 
himself  is  the  cause  of  all  the  evil  that  shall  arise,  to 
wound  his  own  peace,  to  render  the  object  of  his  affec- 
tion unamiahlc.  to  burst  asunder  the  bonds  of  fraternal 
unity,  to  destroy  domestic  harmony,  and  to  promote 
discord,  strife,  envy,  and  "every  evil  work." 

God — "who  speakrth  once,  yea,  twice,  yet  man 
perceivrth  it  not;"  who,  -in  a  dream,  in  a  vision  of  the 
night,  whrn  deep  sleep  ialfeth  upon  men,  in  clumber- 
ings  upon  thr  bed,  {.pcncth  their  cars,  and  sealeth  their 
instruction'' — forrtold  to  Joseph,  in  two  separate,  yet 
similar  dreams,  I, is  future  <v  B  fe  the  canon 

of  scripture  was  completed,  divine  designs  were  made 
known  i  .-.rdiatc  channels;  and   such 

methods  of  communication,  as  those  mentioned  in  this 


173 

book,  were  frequent,  before  a  written  revelation    waf 
given,  because  they  were  necessary. 

With  more  of  honest  simplicity,  and  of  childish  ex- 
ultation, than  of  wisdom,  and  of  prudence,  he  related 
these  dreams;  and  the  rancor,  which  already  corroded 
fraternal  affection,  was  increased  in  the  bosom  of  his 
envious  brethren.  They  fed  their  flocks  at  a  distance 
from  home,  and  it  is  probable  had  been  absent  seme  days, 
when  the  affectionate  heart  of  Jacob  yearned  to  know 
of  their  welfare.  He  resolved  to  send  Joseph,  to  bear  to 
them  a  parent's  inquiries,  and  a  parent's  blessing.  He  could 
not  but  have  seen  their  smothered  dislike  to  this  amiable 
youth:  he  had  surely  heard  their  half  suppressed  mur- 
murings:  and,  no  doubt,  he  marked  them  with  fear  and 
concern.  It  is  not  impossible  that  he  reflected  upon 
himself,  for  having,  by  his  conduct,  excited  the  ferment, 
which  he  was  now  anxious  to  allay;  and,  perhaps,  he 
said  in  his  heart — 'By  sending  my  child  to  inquire  af- 
ter their  welfare,  and  making  him  the  servant  of  their' 
convenience,  I  shall  wipe  away  their  evil  impressions 
against  him,  and  convince  them  of  my  regard  for 
them.'  Little  did  he  know  the  extent  of  the  mischief 
which  his  partiality  had  effected;  and  as  little  did  he 
appear  to  understand  that  "a  brother  offended  is  hard- 
er to  be  won  than  a  strong  city!" 

Behold,  this  lad  in  whom  all  his  father's  affections 
centre,  setting  out  from  the  vale  of  Hebron!  Already 
have  the  trembling  lips  of  Jacob  pronounced,  "God  be 
gracious  to  thee,  my  son!" — and  now  his  aged  eyes 
are  following  him  in  his  way  to  Shechem.  Did  no 
presentiment  of  evil  shake  his  heart  with  unusual  fears, 
when  his  faltering  tongue,  said,  "farewell?"  Yonder 
youth,  lightly  treading  the  ground,  and  gaily  pursuing 
the  path  which  led  him  from  his  father's  trnt  for  ever. 


174 

/ 

and  from  his  father's  presence  for  twenty  three  years  ap- 
prehends no  approaching  ill.  And  although  his  enemies 
are  cruel  as  death,  there  is  ON&  above,  who  shall  de- 
liver him  from  all  their  malice. 

Wandering  from  place  to  place,  his  weary  feet  draw 
nigh  to  Dothan;  and  lo,  those  whom  he  seeks  are  there, 
watching  his  approach.  Did  not  his  heart  leap  for 
joy,  when  he  saw,  once  more,  faces  which  he  knew, 
and  brethren  whom  he  loved?  With  sentiments  far  dif- 
ferent do  they  gaze  upon  the  lively  hope  of  their  fath- 
er's old  age!  "And  when  they  saw  him  afar  off,  even 
before  became  near  unto  them,  they  conspired  against 
him  to  slay  him."  Ungrateful,  and  unnatural,  that 
they  were!  They  could  see  a  parent's  failings — but 
could  not  recognize  his  kindness!  In  the  person  of  that 
beautiful  youth,  they  only  saw  the  favorite  of  their 
father:  envy  had  so  blinded  their  eyes,  that  they  did 
not  discover  in  him,  a  brother — "bone  of  their  bone, 
and  flesh  of  their  flesh." 

How  does  one  vice  lead  the  way  to  another!  The 
man  who  cherishes  one  evil  passion  cannot  say  where 
it  will  end!  He,  who  begins  a  course  of  iniquity,  can- 
not draw  the  line,  and  bay,  "Thus  far  will  I  go,  but  no 
further!"  The  brethren  of  Joseph  first  admitted  envy 
into  their  bosoms.  After  lying  long,  and  being  cher- 
ished there,  it  generated  the  thought  of  bloodshed;  and 
the  minds  that  entertained  without  pity  the  idea  of 
murder,  easily  contrived  a  lie  to  impose  upon  their 
abused  father.  "And  they  said  one  to  another,  Be, 
hold  this  dreamer  cometh.  Come  now  therefore,  and 
let  us  -!;tv  him,  and  cast  him  into  some  pit;  and  we 
will  say,  some  evil  beast  hath  devoured  him:  and  we 
yhall  see  what  will  become  of  his  dreams!" 


175 

i 

Remorseless,  and  abandoned,  as  were  this  band  of 
ruffians  (for  who  can  pollute  the  sacred  name  of 
brethren  by  applying  it  to  murderers?)  it  appears  that 
amongst  them  there  was  one,  in  whom  the  flame  of 
duty,  and  affection,  was  not  wholly  extinguished. 
Reuben  retained  in  his  bosom  a  small  portion  of  re- 
spect for  his  venerable  and  tried  parent,  of  love  to  his 
innocent  brother,  of  the  common  feelings  of  humanity; 
and  he  counselled  them  not  to  kill  him,  but  to  deposit 
him  in  some  pit;  secretly  intending  to  deliver  him 
from  their  hands,  and  to  restore  him  to  his  father. 

There  is  one  thing  worthy  your  attention,  and 
which  renders  their  conduct  the  more  cruel  and  unjust, 
that,  whatever  might  be  the  partiality  of  Jacob,  Joseph 
does  not  appear  to  have  assumed  any  thing  in  conse- 
quence of  it,  nor  to  have  carried  himself  tosvards  his 
brethren  with  insolence.  For  aught  that  appears  on 
the  sacred  page,  he  seems  ever  to  have  treated  them 
with  the  utmost  affection,  and  to  have  borne  his  ex- 
altation, in  his  father's  family,  with  meekness. 

They  stripped  him  of  his  coat,  and  having  cast  him 
into  a  pit,  kisat  down  to  eat  bread!"  At  this  moment,  a 
company  of  Ishmaelites  passed  by.  And  Judah  said, 
"What  profit  is  it  if  we  slay  our  brother?  come,  let  us 
sell  him  to  the  Ishmaelites!"  Who  does  not  blush  to 
be  a  partaker  of  human  nature? — of  that  nature, 
which  could  coldly  join  the  purpose  of  murder  with 
satisfying  the  common  cravings  of  hunger — and  not 
only  unite  the  sacred  name  of  brother  with  the  design 
of  reducing  that  brother  to  the  condition  of  a  slave — 
but,  to  make  the  frightful  picture  complete,  added  to 
all  the  rest  the  insatiable  claims  of  avarice,  and  con- 
sulted which  method  of  disposing  of  their  own  "flesh*1 
would  bring  them  the  most  "profit!" — Surely  in  these 


bosoms  nothing  human  was  left  undestroyed! To  this 

vile  proposal  the  brethren  consented  (one  only  being 
absent;)  and  they  sold  their  brother  to  the  Ishmaelites 
for  twenty  pieces  of  silver.  The  absent  brother  re- 
turned in  an  agony  from  the  pit  whence  the  child  was 
taken,  and  lamented  his  loss,  with  feelings  worthy  of 
him,  and  with  a  sincerity  that  will  one  day  shield  him 
from  the  pangs  of  conscience,  which  those  unrelent- 
ing bosoms  shall  feel. 

It  now  remained,  that  they  should  complete  their 
purpose,  and  finish  their  unnatural  plan,  by  deceiving 
their  too  confiding  father,  and  by  persuading  him,  that 
his  beloved  child  was  devoured  by  some  wild  beast. 
This  was  accordingly  done.  A  kid  was  killed,  and 
the  fatal  pledge  of  parental  affection  dyed  in  blood. 

I  see  the  venerable  old  man  waiting  at  the  door  of 
his  tent  for  the  return  of  his  beloved  boy!  He  says  to 
himself — 'Several  hours  have  elapsed  since  he  depart- 
ed! he  might  have  returned  long  ere  now!  The  shad- 
ows of  the  evening  are  falling  fast!  He  will  be  bewil 
dered  in  his  path!  Why  is  he  so  long  in  coming? 
Surely  he  is  safe!' — Now  he  walks  a  little  way  from 
the  door  of  his  tent  to  meet  him;  and  his  eyes,  far 
more  active  than  his  feet,  cast  many  a  wishful,  anxi- 
ous look,  towards  Shechem.  At  length,  a  company 
is  seen  at  a  distance — his  eager  gaze  impatiently  exam- 
them.  'Yes' — he  exclaims  with  exultation — 'they 
arc  my  sons' — and  his  heart  leaps  for  joy!  As  they 
approach,  all  his  fears,  and  anxieties,  return  with  ten- 
fold weight  upon  him.  In  vain  In-  runs  over  the 
whole  company  with  his  eye,  in  search  of  the  object 
of  his  affection — Joseph  is  not  with  them — and  they 
draw  near  to  confirm,  too  sadly  confirm,  his  worst  ap- 
prehensions! The  bloodstained  robe  met  the  distracted 


177 

sight  of  the  wretched  parent.  Most  probably,  hypoc- 
risy shrouded  the  countenance  of  these  unnatural  sons, 
with  the  borrowed  mantle  of  seeming  sorrow.  Their 
tale  of  falsehood  is  told:  the  witness  of  their  story  ap- 
pears in  their  hand;  and  the  silence  of  grief,  at  length, 
gives  way  to  the  phrensy  of  despair. — ult  is  my  son's 

coat'7 he  exclaims ''an  evil  beast  hath  devoured  him! 

Joseph  is  without  doubt  rent  in  pieces. — And  he  re- 
fused to  be  comforted,  and  said,  1  will  go  down  into 
the  grave  to  my  son  mourning!"' 

In  the  mean  time  "Joseph  was  brought  down  to 
Egypt;  and  Potiphar,  an  officer  of  Pharaoh,  captain  of 
the  guard,  an  Egyptian,  bought  him  of  the  hands  of 
the  1  shmaelites."  Here  the  God  of  his  father  interfer- 
ed, and  was  with  the  little  Hebrew  captive,  and  bles- 
sed his  master  for  his  sake.  So  conspicuously  was  the 
hand  of  Heaven  seen  in  his  house,  and  in  all  the  con- 
cerns which  he  committed  to  his  servant  that  this 
man,  although  a  stranger  to  God,  noticed  it,  and  had 
gratitude  enough  to  reward  it;  "and  he  left  all  that  he 
had  in  Joseph's  hand;  and  he  knew  not  ought  he  had, 
save  the  bread  which  he  did  eat." 
1  The  hour  of  temptation  is  at  hand.  Prosperity  is 
generally  suceeded  by  trial.  When  thy  day,  my  young 
friend,  is  unusually  serene,  expect  a  tempest  to  follow. 
I  shall  draw  a  veil  over  the  scene  of  trial  to  which  his 
purity  was  exposed:  for  it  would  ill  become  us  to  en- 
force even  Joseph's  piety,  at  the  expense  of  a  blush 
from  the  cheek  of  modesty.  All  circumstances  consid- 
ered, the  temptation  was  violent;  and  such  as  none  but 
those,  who,  like  Joseph,  have  the  fear  of  God  before 
their  eyes,  could  have  withstood.  But  his  arguments 
were  strong,  and  unanswerable:  "How  can  I  do  this 
great  wickedness,  and  sin  against  God?"  This  noble 
23 


178 

principle  shall  not  go  unrewarded.  The  righteous  de- 
mands of  religion  may  for  a  season  seem  to  expose  us 
to  danger:  but  the  eye  of  God  beholds  integrity  in  the 
heart  that  cleaves  to  him,  and  the  hand  of  God  will 
recompense  it. 

By  the  tongue  of  falsehood,  his  master  was  pre- 
vailed upon  to  cast  this  injured  and  virtuous  youth  in- 
to prison.  We  pause  one  moment  to  mark  here  I  he 
overruling  hand  of  Heaven.  DEATH  was  the  punish- 
ment inflicted  upon  those  who  are  guilty  of  the  crime 
of  which  he  was  accused;  and  here  is  the  first  interpo- 
sition of  God  in  reward  of  his  innocence.  Yet  his  lot 
was  bitter;  for  he  was  immured  in  the  king's  prison, 
and  -the  iron  entered  into  his  soul." 

Behold  him  reduced  to  the  lowest  ebb  of  fortune — 
;'a  stranger  in  a  strange  land" — shut  out  from  liberty 
— denied  to  breathe  the  pure  air  of  heaven — lying  un- 
der the  imputation  of  a  detestable  crime — and  strip- 
ped of  every  thing,  except  that  which  the  world's 
wealth  cannot  purchase,  the  testimony  of  a  good  con- 
science, and  the  presence  and  Spirit  of  God.  Yet  the 
hand  of  Deity  is  secretly  working  for  him,  both  with- 
in, and  without,  the  place  of  his  confinement.  To 
lighten  his  bondage,  he  now  finds  that  favor  in  the 
eyes  of  the  keeper  of  the  prison,  which  he  formerly 
found  with  Potiphar;  and  by  the  wise  decisions  of 
Providence  tvvo  of  the  principal  servants  of  Pharaoh 
are  sent  to  the  same  house  of  bondage."  Long  had 
they  not  been  under  the  same  n>i»f  with  Joseph,  before 
the  visions  of  the  Almighty  visited  them;  and  two 
dreams  predicted  the  restoration  of  the  one  to  favor, 
and  the  termination  of  the  hopes  and  fears  of  the  oth- 
er in  death.  With  affectionate  sympathy,  Joseph  in- 
rjuired  why  the  cloud  of  grief  sat  heavy  on  their  coun- 


179 

tenances;  and,  upon  the  relation  of  their  dreams  separ- 
ately, he  gave  to  each,  with  fidelity,  their  interpi 
tion.  Upon  the  conviction  that  the  chief  butler  was 
abjut  to  be  restored  to  his  oftice;  he  builds  a  hope  that, 
through  his  instrumentality,  he  may  once  more  be 
permitted  to  breathe  the  air,  and  see  the  light  of  heav- 
en at  large;  and  the  sensibility  with  which  he  describes 
his  former  situation,  and  his  present  circumstances, 
while  he  entreats  his  fellow  prisoner  to  remember  him, 
is  so  natural,  and  so  pathetic,  that  none  but  an  heart  of 
stone  can  read  his  melancholy  tale  without  feel- 
ing. "But  think  on  me  when  it  shall  be  well  with 
thee,  and  shew  kindness,  I  pray  thee,  unto  me;  and 
make  mention  of  me  unto  Pharaoh,  and  bring 
me  out  of  this  house.  For  indeed  I  was  stolen  away 
out  of  the  land  of  the  Hebrews,  and  here  also  have  I 
done  nothing  that  they  should  put  me  into  the  dun- 
geon!" 

Every  thing  took  place  precisely  as  he  had  predict- 
ed: "Yet  did  not  the  chief  butler  remember  Joseph: 
but  forgat  him."  Such  is  the  friendship  of  the  world, 
it  is  founded  in  interest,  and  dissolved  for  convenience. 
It  is  all  promise;  and  he  who  relies  upon  it,  will  sit 
down  in  the  bitterness  of  disappointment  to  deplore 
his  folly,  In  the  hour  of  affliction,  when  this  man 
was  a  fellow-prisoner  with  Joseph,  and  was  comfort- 
ed by  him,  a  transient  emotion  of  affection  for  his 
"companion  in  tribulation"  stirred  in  his  bosom.  Na- 
ture was  not  dead  within  him;  and  humanity  plead- 
ed for  one  so  young,  so  kind,  and  so  injured,  as  Joseph. 
A  string  of  tenderness  was  touched  in  his  heart:  but, 
alas,  its  vibrations  ceased,  and  it  relapsed  into  a  state 
of  rest,  so  soon  as  the  hand  which  struck  it  was  with- 
drawn. When  he  was  exalted  to  power,  and  restored 


ISO 

to  prosper!!}*,  Joseph  \vas  left  to  pine  amid  all  the  hor- 
rors of  solitary  imprisonment,  and  to  feel  the  pang  in- 
flicted by  neglect. 

At  length,  when  hope  deferred  made  the  heait  sick, 
the  mercy  of  God  interposed;  and  He,  whose  power  is 
manifested  to  deliver  in  the  moment  of  extremity  pro- 
cured that  enlargement  for  Joseph,  which  he  had  en- 
treated from  the  friendship  of  the  chief  butler  in  vain. 
Pharaoh  had  two  remarkable  dreams,  and  was  troub- 
led: his  own  distress,  on  a  similar  occasion,  rose  before 
the  eyes  of  the  chief  butler,  and  recalled  Joseph  with 
all  his  amiable  qualities  to  his  memory.  "Then  spake 
the  chief  butler  unto  Pharaoh,  saying,  I  do  remember 
my  faults  this  day.  Pharaoh  was  wrath  with  his  ser- 
vants, and  put  me  in  .ward  in  the  captain  of  the  guard's 
house,  both  me  and  the  chief  baker.  And  we  dream- 
ed a  dream  in  one  night,  I  arid  he:  we  dreamed  each 
man  according  to  the  interpretation  of  his  dream.  And 
there  was  there  with  us  a  young  man,  an  Hebrew  ser- 
vant to  the  captain  of  the  guard;  and  we  told  him,  and 
he  interpreted  to  us  our  dreams:  to  each  man  according 
to  his  dream  he  did  interpret.  And  it  came  to  pass, 
as  he  interpreted  to  us,  so  it  was:  me  he  restored  unto 
mine  office,  and  him  he  hanged." 

Joseph  was  brought  before  Pharaoh,  in  consequence  of 
Misrepresentation;  and  liaving heard  the  dreams  which 
had  agitat-J  antl  perplexed  the  king,  he  interpreted  them 
as  imp]  ii  yearsof  plenty  and-seven  years  of  fam- 

ine, God  luiil  given  to  this  young  man  a  wisdom  more 
precious  than  all  the  treasures  of  Egypt;  and  Pharaoh 
had  hin  >  to  value  and  reward  it,  where  helv- 

hcld  ithinuril  with,  integrity  and  >vi,ith.  Ilestq-pal  at 
once  ft-  i  to  a  tlin  ne;  ftl  <i  ;  B&sed,  in-m  tie 

menial  .t  to  the  captain  of  the 


181 

to  the  second  chariot,  and  to  the  second  office  in  the 
kingdom.  At  thirty  years  of  age,  Pharaoh  conM;- 
ted  him  governor  of  all  Egypt.  All  elevations 
Dangerous:  but  those  which  are  sudden,  are  of  all  oth- 
ers the  most  perilous.  Joseph  needed  more  grace,  and 
more  strength,  to  preserve  him  in  his  newly  acquired 
dignities  and  honors,  than  to  support  him  in  his  afflic- 
tions and  persecutions.  B>!t  he,  whose  hand  conduct- 
ed him  to  fame  and  to  splendor,  preserved  his  heart, 
that  he  was  not  ensnared  by  them.  He,  who  made 
him  patient  in  tribulation,  made  him  also  faithful  in 
prosperity. 

By  the  management  of  this  extraordinary  young 
man  during  the  years  of  plenty,  enough  was  laid  up  in 
store  to  supply  the  whole  kingdom,  so  long  as  the  des- 
olating scourge  of  famine  was  shaken  over  Egypt, 
and  the  adjacent  countries.  The  history  of  Joseph, 
and  the  circumstances  of  this  famine,  are  mentioned 
by  Justin,  in  his  abridgment  of  the  history  of  Trogus 
Pompeus:  in  wrhich,  he  has  blended  together,  as  is 
customary  in  traditions,  that  which  is  true,  and  that 
which  is  fabulous.  He  ascribes  the  knowledge  of  fu- 
turity which  this  favorite  of  Heaven  possessed,  to  the 

exercise  of  magicial  arts but  you  shall  hear  him 

speak  for  himself.  The  following  is  his  language, 
"Among  his  brethren,  Joseph,  in  point  of  age,  was  the 
youngest;  and  fearing  the  superiority  of  his  genius; 
they  surprised,  and  secretly  sold  him  to  foreign  mer- 
chants, by  whom  he  was  carried  into  Egypt;  where  he 
exercised  magicial  arts  with  singular  ability,  which 
rendered  him  much  beloved  by  the  king.  For  he  was 
most  sagacious  in  the  solution  of  prodigies;  and  first 
found  out  the  explanation  of  dreams;  and  nothing  of 
divine,  or  of  human  wisdom,  seemed  to  be  concealed 


182 

from  him!  So  that  he  foresaw  the  sterility  of  the  lands, 
many  years  before  it  took  place;  and  all  Egypt  had 
perished  by  famine,  had  not  the  king,  by  his  admoni- 
tion, in  a  decree,  commanded  the  fruits  to  be  preserved 
many  years.  And  such  was  his  experience,  that  his 
answers  seemed  to  be  given  by  a  God,  rather  than  by 
a  man."* — Such  is  the  testimony  of  this  writer. 

The  famine  extending  to  the  land  of  Canaan,  the 
family  of  Jacob  began  to  be  in  want.  Poor  old  man! 
his  sorrows  thickened  upon  his  head,  at  a  time  of  life 
when  nature  demanded  repose.  Usually,  after  a 
stormy  and  rough  day,  in  eventide  there  is  light:  but 
the  lower  his  sun  descended,  the  darker  was  the  cloud 
which  gathered  upon  it.  A  numerous  family — age — 
infirmity — want — these  are  sad  companions!  What  is 
to  be  done?  Tidings  have  reached  him,  that  there  is 
corn  in  Egypt,  and  his  sons  are  sent  thither:  but  mind- 
ful of  his  loss,  the  patriarch  retains  Benjamin,  the  only 
pledge  that  remained  to  him  of  Rachel's  affection. 
And  now  is  the  divine  prescience  made  manifest!  This 
knot  of  ruffians,  whose  eye  had  no  pity,  are  to  feel  in 
their  turn  the  roughness  of  unkindness;  and  they  who 
sported  with  a  brother's  tears,  shall  see  "what  will  be- 
come of  his  dreams!"  I  am  delighted  to  observe  their 
embarrassment,  and  their  fears,  while  they  are  treated 
as  spies — and  Jicnjamin  is  required — and  Simeon  is 
bound  before  their  faces  as  a  pledge  of  their  return 
with  their  younger  brother:  rnd  I  love  to  listen  to  the 
language  of  their  guilty  awakened  consciences.  They 
had  slept  for  twenty  years,  and  it  is  time  they  should 
be  roused  from  their  *lumlK*r.s.  "And  they  said  one 
to  another,  We  are  verily  guilty  concerning  our  broth 

*  J. 


183 

cr,  m  that  we  saw  the  anguish  of  his  soul,  when  he 
besought  us;  and  we  would  not  hear:  therefore  is  this 
distress  come  upon  us!" 

They  left  Egypt  for  their  father's  tent  with  heavy 
hearts,  although  they  were  supplied  with  corn  for  their* 
immediate  necessities;  and  their  anxieties  were  not  a 
little  increased,  when  they  found  that  their  money  was 
restored.  But  while  I  enjoy  their  punishment,  I 
grieve  to  think  how  heavy  all  this  will  fall  upon  the 
head  of  Jacob! — As  they  told  their  tale,  all  the  sorrows 
of  his  heart  were  opened  anew:  but  when  they  came 
to  require  Benjamin,  he  could  restrain  his  emotions 
no  longer;  and  he  said — "Me  have  ye  bereaved  of  my 
children:  Joseph  is  not.  and  Simeon  is  not,  and  ye 
will  take  Benjamin  away.  All  these  things  are  against 
me!  My  son  shall  not  go  down  with  you:  for  \i,s 
brother  is  dead,  and  he  is  left  alone;  if  mischief  befall 
him  by  the  way  in  the  which  ye  go,then  shall  ye  bring 
dow?i  rny  gray  hairs  with  sorrow  to  the  grave!" 

Bat  the  hand  of  God  is  heavy  stiil  on  the  land,  and 
the  pressure  of  famine  reduces  them  to  the  necessity  of 
agdin  Visiting  Egypt,  With  reluctance  Israel  parted 
with  his  youngest  son,  and  Judah  laid  himself  under 
the  most  solemn  engagement  to  restore  him  to  the 
arms  of  his  father.  This  engagement  was  put  to  a 
severe  trial!  They  were  received  more  kindly  than  at 
first;  and  Benjamin  was  distinguished  by  the  peculiar 
favor  of  the  ruler  of  Egypt.  The  time  of  their  de- 
parture came — and  they  commenced  their  journey  in 
peace — with  their  number  complete — and  with  the 
fairest  hope  to  reach  their  home  without  evil,  and  to 
gladden  the  eyes  of  their  father  with  the  sight  of  Sim- 
eon, whom  they  had  left  bound,  and  of  Benjamin  with 
whom  he  had  so  reluctantly  parted. 


184 

Now  in  order  to  detain  them,  Joseph  had  com- 
manded his  steward  secretly  to  convey  his  cup  into 
the  sack  of  the  youngest;  and  when  they  had  left  the 
city,  he  issued  orders  that  they  should  be  pursued? 
charged  with  the  theft,  and  brought  back  to  his  pres- 
ence. They  were  overtaken;  and  the  charge  was  pre- 
ferred agaiilst  them.  Secure  in  their  innocence,  they 
said,  "Wherefore  saith  my  lord  these  words?  God  for- 
bid that  thy  servants  should  do  according  to  this 
thing!  Behold,  the  money  which  we  found  in  our 
sacks'  mouths,  we  brought  again  unto  thee  out  of  the 
land  of  Canaan:  how  then  should  we  steal  out  of  thy 
lord's  house  silver  or  gold?  With  whomsoever  of  thy 
servants  it  be  found,  both  let  him  die,  and  we  also  will 
be  my  lord's  bondmen."  After  this  declaration,  what 
was  their  horror  and  distraction  when  tlthe  cup  was 
found  in  Benjamin's  sack!" 

In  unutterable  agony  they  are  brought  back   into 
the  presence  of  Joseph — and  offer  to  become  his  ser- 
vants! this  offer  is  rejected,  on  principles  of  justice,  and 
he  only  is  required,  in  whose  sack  the  cup  was  found. 
But  this  was   all  that  they  dreaded — and  to  return 
without  him  was  worse  than  death!    It  was  then  that 
the  engagement  of  Judah  presented  itself  to  him  in  all 
its  force;  and   he  pleaded  for  his  brother  with  all  the 
eloquence  of  distress,  and  in  a  language  which  it  would 
.ijury  to   imitate.     '-Then  Judah  came  near  unto 
him,  and  said,  Oh  my  lord,  let  thy  servant,  1  pray  thee, 
speak  a  word  in  my  lord's   curs,  and    let    not  thine 
:r  burn  against  thy  servant:  for  thou  art  rven   as 
.raoh.      My  lord  asked  his  servant-.  >ayii.g.  Have 
:  father,  or  a  brother?  And  we  saivl  unto  my  lord, 
We  have  a  father,  an  old  man.  and  a  child  of  his  old 
age,  a  little  one:  and  his  brother  is  'lead,  i-.nd  he  alone 


185 

is  left  of  his  mother,  and  his  father  loveth  him.  And 
thou  saidst  unto  thy  servants,  Bring  him  down  unto 
me,  that  I  may  set  mine  eyes  upon  him.  And 
we  said  unto  my  lord,  The  lad  cannot  leave  his 
father,  for  if  he  should  leave  his  father,  his  father 
would  die!  And  thou  saidst  unto  thy  servants,  Ex- 
cept your  youngest  brother  come  down  with  you,  ye 
shall  see  my  face  no  more.  And  it  came  to  pass, 
when  we  came  up  unto  thy  servant  my  father,  we  told 
him  the  words  of  my  lord.  And  our  father  said.  Go 
again  and  buy  us  a  little  food.  And  we  said,  We 
cannot  go  down:  if  our  youngest  brother  be  with  us, 
then  will  we  go  down;  for  we  may  not  see  the  man's 
face,  except  our  youngest  brother  be  with  us.  And 
fchy  servant  my  father  said  unto  us.  Ye  know  that 
my  wife  bear  me  two  sons.  And  the  one  went  out 
from  me,  and  I  said,  surely  he  is  torn  in  pieces;  and  I 
saw  him  not  since.  And  if  ye  take  this  also  from  me, 
and  mischief  befall  him,  ye  shall  bring  down  my  gray 
hairs  with  sorrow  to  the  grave!  Now  therefore  when 
I  come  to  thy  servant  my  father,  and  the  lad  be  not 
with  us:  seeing  that  his  lite  is  bound  up  in  the  lad's 
life;  it  shall  come  to  pass,  when  he  seeth  that  the  lad  is 
not  with  us,  that  he  will  die!  and  thy  servants  shall 
bring  down  the  gray  hairs  of  thy  servant  our  father 
with  sorrow  to  the  grave!  For  thy  servant  became 
surety  for  the  lad  unto  my  father,  saying,  If  I  bring 
him  not  unto  thee,  then  I  shall  bear  the  blame  to  my 
father  for  ever!  Now  therefore,  I  pray  thee,  let  ihy  ser- 
vant abide  instead  of  the  lad,  a  bondman  to  my  lord; 
and  let  the  lad  go  up  with  his  brethren.  For  how 
shall  I  go  up  to  my  father,  and  the  lad  be  not  with  me? 
lest  peradventure  I  see  the  evil  that  shall  come  on  my 
father!" 

24 


186 

O  powerful  nature!  how  irresistible  is  thy  language! 
No  rules  of  composition  could  produce  an  effect  equal 
to  this  pathetic  appeal  to  the  heart!  Eloquence  flows 
along  in  a  soft,  unruffled  stream,  which  leaves  no 
trace  on  the  memory  over  which  it  has  passed:  it 
charms  the  ear  with  its  selection  of  language,  but  dies 
away  with  the  vibrations  which  the  tongue  of  the  ora- 
tor excites  in  the  air:  but  the  voice  of  nature  leads  the 
bosom  captive;  and  the  heart  of  Joseph  must  have 
been  adamant  had  he  not  felt  it!  But  he  did  feel  it — 
and  unable  any  longer  to  "refrain  himself,"  he  order- 
ed all  his  servants  to  leave  him,  while  he  made  himself 
known  to  his  brethren,  and  wept  aloud!  The  scene 
which  follows  is  too  affecting  to  delineate!  Language 
cannot  describe  it!  The  inquiries  after  his  father,  the 
gentle  forgiveness  tendered  to  his  brethren,  and  his 
commission  to  Jacob — all — ail,  transcend  human 
power  to  paint;  it  was  the  inspired  penman  alone  who 
could  portray  them!  Here,  then,  we  shall  follow  the 
modest  example  of  a  celebrated  painter,  who  unable  to 
delineate  the  agony  of  a  father  hanging  over  the  corpse 
of  an  only  child,  hid  his  face  in  the  robes  which  veiled 
IUT  lifeless  remains. 

Here  we  might  pause,  for  a  few  moments,  to  reflect 
upon  the  wonders  of  Providence!  Every  thing  predict- 
ed in  the  dreams  of  Joseph  was  fulfilled,  and  the  very 
steps  which  his  brethren  took  to  prevent  it,  accomplish- 
ed the  whole.  But  we  must  bring  you  to  the  close  of 
this  history,  and  we  could  make  no  remarks,  which 
are  not  already  comprised  in  one  text  of  scripture: 
•  Many  are  the  devices  of  a  man's  heart;  nevertheless, 
the  counsel  of  the  Lord,  that  *hall  stand!" 

Behold  thnn  once  again  upon  their  journry:  but 
with  what  different  feelings  to  the  day  when  they  left 


187 

Simeon  bound  behind  them,  and  were  required  to 
bring  Benjamin?  Now  the  way  seems  annihilated,  so 
swiftly  do  they  pass,  and  so  speedily  do  they  reach  the 
tent  of  their  father.  With  the  abruptness  of  joy,  they 
tell  a  tale,  which  ought  to  have  been  delivered  with 
caution,  and  by  degrees: — "Joseph  is  yet  alive!  and  he 
is  governor  over  all  the  land  of  Egypt!" — and  it  is  al- 
most too  much  for  that  shattered  frame — "And  Jacob's 
heart  fainted,  for  he  believed  them  not!"  But  uwhen 
he  saw  (he  waggons  which  Joseph  had  sent  to  carry 
him — his  spirit  revived:  And  Israel  said,  It  is  enough! 
Joseph  my  son  is  yet  alive:  I  will  go  and  see  him  be- 
fore I  die'/' 

We  will  not  accompany  him  along  a  journey,  the 
fatigues  of  which  are  lightened,  by  the  anticipated 
pleasure  of  feasting  his  eyes  once  more  on  the  counte- 
nance of  his  beloved  child:  but  we  cannot  refrain  from 
gratifying  you,  by  permitting  you  to  witness  the 
meeting  of  such  a  father,  and  of  such  a  son,  after  an 
absence  of  more  than  twenty  years.  "And  Joseph 
made  ready  his  chariot,  and  went  up  to  meet  Israel  his 
father  to  Goshen:  and  presented  himself  unto  him:  and 
he  fell  on  his  neck,  and  wept  on  his  neck,  a  good 
while.  And  Israel  said  unto  Joseph,  Now  let  me  die, 
since  I  have  seen  thy  face,  that  thou  art  yet  alive!'" 

When  the  first  emotions  of  this  meeting  were  over, 
and  they  had  separately  time  to  collect  their  thoughts, 
aind  to  talk  calmly,  how  much  each  of  them  would 
h'ave  to  relate!  Joseph  would  mark  with  paVi,  the  rav- 
agtes  which  sorrow  and  time  had  made  on  his  father's 
person,  and  the  wrinkles  which  they  had  planted  in 
his 'face!  Jacob  would  delight  in  retracing  the  reseuv 

*  See  note  2,  of  this  Lecture,  at  the  end  of  the  velum?. 


188 

blance  of  the  features  of  a  man  of  forty,  to  those  of  a 
lad  of  seventeen;'  which  was  the  age  of  Joseph  when 
he  was  snatched  from  him!  And  with  what  mutual 
interest,  would  they  listen  to  the  alternate  recital  of 
their  mutual  sufferings! 

But  it  was  necessary  that  Jacob  should  be  introduc- 
ed to  Pharaoh,  whose  curiosity  was  probably  greatly 
excited  to  see  the  father  of  Joseph;  and  who  must 
have  been  much  struck  with  the  appearance  of  the 
venerable  patriarch.  "And  Pharaoh  said  unto  Jacob, 
How  old  art  thou?  And  Jacob  said  unto  Pharaoh, 
The  days  of  the  years  of  my  pilgrimage  are  an  hun- 
dred and  thirty  years:  few  and  evil  have  the  days  of 
the  years  of  my  life  been,  and  have  not  attained  unto 
the  days  of  the  years  of  the  life  of  my  fathers  in  the 
days  of  their  pilgrimage!" — This  was  not  only  an  an- 
swer to  the  king's  question,  but  an  epitome  of  his  own 
life! 

About  seventeen  years  of  tranquillity  succeeded  the 
storms,  and  rendered  serene  the  evening,  of  the  patri- 
arch's life — and  "the  time  drew  near  that  Israel  must 
die!"  His  family  were  convened  around  him:  and  his 
blessings  poured  upon  the  head  of  Joseph;  and  of  the 
sons  of  Joseph — and  of  the  brethren  of  Joseph — with 
parental  tenderness,  and  with  prophetic  fidelity.  "And 
when  Jacob  had  made  an  end  of  commanding  his 
sons,  he  gathered  up  his  feet  into  the  bed,  and  yield- 
ed up  the  ghost,  and  was  gathered  to  his  people." 

This  was  a  separation  more  awful  and  affecting  tha».i 
any  which  had  yet  taken  place;  and  who  docs  no  syni- 
pathize  with  the  pious  and  affectionate  son,  as  he 
"mourned  with  :  and  very  sme  lamentati* 

and  as  he  coi. ^ ;-neil  the  remains  of  his  father  to   i'e- 
pose  by  the  dust  of  his   family?    "There  they  buried 


189 

Abraham  and  Sarah  his  wife,  there  they  buried  Isaac 
and  Rebekah  his  wife,  there  he buiied  Leah,"  and  in 
the  same  grave  his  beloved  son  deposited  his  body! 

But  to  human  grief  there  must  be  boundaries.  The 
imperious  claims  of  public,  of  domestic,  and  of  private 
duty,  called  upon  him  to  dry  his  tears — and  he  obey- 
ed them.  He  continued  to  serve  Pharaoh  with  fideli- 
ty— to  lead  up  his  family  in  the  fear  of  God — to  speak 
kindly  to  his  brethren — and  to  nourish  their  little  ones. 
And  this  appears  to  have  been  his  unremitting  employ- 
ment, through  the  space  of  fifty-four  years:  at  the 
close  of  which  time,  and  at  the  age  of  an  hundred  and 
ten,  he  followed  his  father  down  into  the  grave;  and  left 
his  bones  to  the  charge  of  his  brethren,  to  be  deposited, 
when  the  providence  of  God  should  see  fit,  by  those  of 
his  deceased  family. 

In  concluding  this  interesting  and  pathetic  history,  we 
arrive  at  the  close  of  the  book  of  Genesis;  the  follow- 
ing remarks  may  not  be  deemed  unnecessary,  before 
this  portion  of  the  sacred  writings  is  entirely  dismissed. 

1.  The  facts  which  it  relates,  are  such  as  it  concerns 
us  to  know,  and  such  as  an  inspired  communication 
must  necessarily  contain:  for  they  are  such,  for   the 
most  part,    as  could  be   obtained  through  no  other 
channel  than  revelation.       Who,  for  instance,  but  a 
man  divinely  instructed,  could  give  us  an  account  of 
the  creation  of  all  things,  and  of  the  destination  of 
man?  And  yet  these  are  the  first  subjects  after  which 
we  naturally  inquire;  and  we  expect  satisfaction  from 
a  volume  professedly  inspired. 

2.  It  appears  that  Moses  is  the  true  and  sole  au- 
thor of  this  book — and  for  these  several  reasons:  He  is 
allowed  to  be,  on  the  testimony  of  the  heathens  the 
most  ancient^  lawgiver:  the  Jews,  who  are  governed 


190 

by  these  laws,  acknowledge  no  other  legislator*  and 
when  we  are  informed  that  Solon  gave  laws  to  A- 
thens,  and  Lycurgus  to  Lacedaeinon,  we  credit  the  as- 
sertion, because  it  is  made  by  the  nations  themselves, 
through  the  medium  of  their  historians,  and  all  gener- 
ations have,  in  succession,  admitted  their  testimony; 
and  we  have  the  same  evidence  in  favor  of  Moses. 
Neither,  even  admitting  a  book  of  this  description 
could  be  forged,  could  it  be  imposed  upon  a  whole  peo- 
ple, without  detection,  by  any  impostor  of  later  date 
than  Moses  himself. 

3.  The  connexion  between  Genesis,  and  the  suc- 
ceeding books,  is  such  that  if  this  be  removed,  those 
which  remain  are  unintelligible;  and  preserving  it,  ev- 
ery thing  is  connected  and  luminous:  so  that  the  book 
which  we  have  just  finished,  must  be  admitted  into  the 
canon  of  scripture,  and  among  the  writings  of  Moses, 
or  the  whole  of  the  five  books  expunged;  and  then  have 
you  wiped  out  the  first  record  which  Reason  expects  of 
Revelation — an  account   of  things  which  necessarily 
extend  beyond  our  own  province,  and  as  necessarily 
fall  within  that  of  Revelation.  Besides  which,  the  har- 
mony of  the  whole  volume  is  broken:  for  it  proceeds 
throughout  upon  principles  contained  in  this  first  book; 
and  the  authority  of  the  scriptures,  from  first  to  last, 
is  destroyed:  for  an  appeal  is  made  in  every  successive 
part  of  the  Bible,  to  events  which  are  recorded,  and  to 
facts  which  arc  stated,  in  Genesis. 

4.  The  historian  writes  like  a  man  convinced  of  the 
truth  of  that  which  he  advances.     1  Ie  appeals  to  things 
at  that  time  well  known,  which  are  now  lost;  and    it 

;isy  to  conceive  how  the  several  lads  which  he  re- 
lates were  transmitted  to  him.  Admitting  that  he 
could  impose  upon  us,  and  upon  succeeding  genera- 
tions, who  will  be  still  more  removed  from  the  era  of 


191 

his  facts,  and  the  scene  of  transactions  which  he  has 
stated,  he  could  not  have  imposed  upon  those  with 
whom  he  lived,  and  who  were  themselves  by  tradition 
well  acquainted  with  the  facts  which  he  relates.  Should 
any  man  be  disposed,  after  all  that  has  been  said,  to 
determine  that  the  whole  is  a  fable,  before  he  finally 
draws  his  conclusions,  we  intreut  him  once  more  to 
read  over  the  history  of  Joseph,  in  all  its  native  sim- 
plicity, as  recorded  in  the  Bible,  and  we  wrould  be 
satisfied  to  rest  our  argument  upon  this  alone:  we  think 
that  no  one  could  for  a  moment  imagine  that  it  is  a 
fiction:  we  would  even  venture  to  appeal  to  skepti- 
cism itself  to  determine,  whether  any  thing  could  so 
affect  the  heart,  short  of  truth  and  nature. 

5.  The  difference  of  style  between  the  book  of  Gen- 
esis, and  those  which  succeed,  which  some  have  al- 
leged as  an  evidence  that  they  had  not  the  same  au- 
thor, may  be  accounted  for  on  this  principle:  that  in 
this  he  records  things  which  took  place  before  he  wras 
born;  in  those,  he  relates  the  transactions  of  his  own 
day,  to  which  he  was  an  eye- witness.  Those  who 
have  supposed,  that  if  Moses  had  been  the  author  of 
this  part  of  the  Bible,  he  would  not  have  spoken  of 
himself  in  the  third  person,  appear  to  us  to  have  pointed 
out  one  of  his  principal  beauties,  and  to  have  confirm- 
ed his  general  character:  for  egotism  would  have  ill 
become  "the  meekest  of  men" 

—But  it  is  time  that  we  retire  to  our  respective  hab- 
itations, for  meditation  and  prayer. 


LECTURE  VII. 

INTERMEDIATE  LECTURE. 

A    SCRIPTURAL    REPRESENTATION    OF    THE   NA- 
TURE AND  DESTINATION  OF  MAN. 

GEN.  II.  7. 

And  the  Lord  God  formed  man  of  the  dust  of  the 
ground,  and  breathed  into  his  nostrils  the  breath  of 
life;  and  man  became  a  living  soul. 

JOB  xxxii,  8. 

There  is  a  spirit  in  man;  and  the  inspiration  of  the 
Almighty  giveth  them  understanding. 

WHY  does  my  heart  beat  with  pulsations  of  rapture, 
when  my  eye  measures  yonder  heavens,  or  glides 
over  hills  and  vallies  along  the  surface  of  this  beauti- 
ful world?  When  the  dew  sparkles  upon  the  ground, 
a  kindred  tear  glitters  upon  my  countenance:  but  it 
is  not  the  tear  of  sorrow;  it  springs  from  a  well  of 
unspeakable  pleasure  which  I  feel  flowing  within  my 
bosom!  Is  it  merely  the  softness,  or  the  grandeur,  of 
the  scenery  by  which  I  am  surrounded,  that  affects  me? 
No!  but  my  spirit  meets  a  Parent  walking  invisibly  on 
the  globe  that  he  formed,  and  woiking  manifestly  on 
my  right  hand  and  on  my  left.  All  these  lovely  ob- 
a;e  the  productions  of  his  skill,  the  result  of  hi^ 
wisdom,  the  tokens  of  his  benevolence,  the  imperfect 
images  of  his  greatness.  Every  thing  demonstrates 
the,  being  and  perfcetions  of  Deity.  I  see  him  em- 
purpling the  <:a^t  before  the  sun  in  the  morning,  and 


193 

wheeling  the  orb  on  which  I  live  round  upon  its  axis* 
I  behold  him  throwing  the  mantle  of  darkness  over  me 
in  the  evening,  and  kindling  the  skies  into  radiance  by 
unveiling  suns  and  worlds  without  number  and  with- 
out end.  I  gather  a  flower,  and  am  revived  by  its 
fragrance;  I  see  shade  melting  into  shade  infinitely 
above  any  combination  of  colors,  which  art  can  pro- 
duce. To  aid  the  organ  of  vision,  I  inspect  through  the 
microscope,  an  insect:  I  see  it  painted  into  a  thousand 
brilliances,  and  displaying  a  thousand  beauties,  im- 
perceptible to  the  naked  eye.  I  stand  convinced 
that  no  mortal  pencil  could  delineate  the  loveliness  of 
its  form.  I  perceive  a  grain  of  corn  peeping  above 
the  earth.  It  scarcely  rears  its  light  green  head 
over  the  ground.  I  visit  it  clay  after  day,  and  month 
after  month.  It  gradually  increases.  It  is  an  inch — 
it  is  a  foot  in  height.  Now  it  assumes  a  new  shape. 
Tt  vegetates  afresh.  The  ear  begins  to  form — to 
expand — to  fill.  Now  it  has  attained  its  growth — it 
ripens — it  is  matured.  I  have  narrowly  watched  the 
progress  of  vegetation;  and  have  seen  its  advancement. 
I  beheld  every  day  adding  something  to  its  height,  and 
to  its  perfection:  but  the  hand  which  raised  it  from  "the 
blade  to  the  ear,  and  to  the  full  corn  in  the  ear,"  escaped 
iny  researches.  I  find  a  crysalis,  and  watch  the  secret 
movements  of  nature.  The  insect  is  shrouded  in  a  liv- 
ing tomb.  It  begins  to  stir: — it  increases  in  strength — 
and  the  butterfly  breaks  from  its  confinement.  Meeting 
with  ten  thousand  such  wonderful  productions  every 
day — I  recognzie  in  them  the  great  Spirit  that  ani- 
mates all  created  nature,  and  I  am  compelled  to  ac- 
knowledge, "O  Lord  our  Governor!  how  excellent  is 
thy  name  in  all  the  earth;  and  thou  hast  set  thy  glory 
above  the  heavens." 
25 


194 

I  pass  on  to  the  animal  creation.    There  I  perceive 
other  operations,  and  am  overwhelmed  with  new  won- 
ders.    The  principle  on  which  they  act,  and  which  is 
termed  instinct,  is  the  gift  of  God;  and  it  appears  to 
differ  from  the  immortal  principle  in  man,  in  its  con- 
finement to  a  certain  inferior  standard,  and  in  its  di- 
rection to  one  particular  pursuit,  adapted  to  the  pecul- 
iar nature  and  exigences  of  its  possessor.     I  see   the 
timid  acquiring  courage  while  they  have  a  maternal 
part  to  perform;  and,  forgetting  to  measure  the  dispro- 
portion between  their  own  strength  and  that  of  their 
antagonist,  boldly  assaulting  those  superior  animals, 
which  designedly  or  unintentionally,  disturb  the  repose 
of  their  young.     Their  instinct  enables  them  to  per- 
form those  things  to  which  it  is  particularly  adapted, 
with  more  order  and  facility  than  man,  with  his  supe- 
rior understanding,  can  accomplish;  and,  with  the  sim- 
ple tools  of  nature,  they  effect  that  which  the  complex 
machinery  of  art  cannot  produce.     All  that  animate 
creation,  from  the  elephant,  and  fctthat  great  leviathan,7' 
among  animals,  to  the  bee,  and  the  ant,  among  insects, 
still  conduct  us  to  the  invisible  God;  and  we  say,  "The 
earth  is  full  of  thy  riches;  so  is  this  great  and  wide  sea. 
wherein  are  things  creeping  innumerable,  both  small 
and  great  beasts.     O  Lord,  how  manifold   are  thy 
works!  in  wisdom  hast  thou  made  them  all." 

B.it  all  these  are  far  inferior  to  man.  He  blends  in 
his  own  person,  the  nature  and  properties  of  all.  He 
has  the  vegetation  of  the  plant — for  his  limbs  expand 
and  grow;  and  he  combines  with  it  the  properties  of 
the  animal — for  he  lives  and  moves:  he  possesses  also 
their  distinguishing  principle  of  action,  instinct — for  his 
rye  closes  self  instructed  against  the  i\y  which  blindly 
rushes  upon  it,  on  a  summer's  evening.  But  he  has  a 


195 

superior  principle;  and  here  is  he  in  truth  the  Lord 
of  Creation.  "There  is  a  spirit  in  man;  and  the  in- 
spiration of  the  Almighty  giveth  him  understanding/' 
These  words  well  express  the  substance  of  the  Lecture 
proposed  for  this  evening:  the  subject  of  which  is 

A  SCRIPTURAL   REPRESENTATION   OF   THE  NATURE  AND 
DESTINATION  OF    MAN. 

While  Elihu  declares  what  man  is,  Moses  leads  us 
back  to  the  contemplation  of  what  he  was;  and  both 
develope  how  he  came  to  be  what  he  is.  "And  the 
Lord  God  formed  man  of  the  dust  of  the  ground,  and 
breathed  into  his  nostrils  the  breath  of  life;  and  man 
became  a  living  soul."  The  combined  testimonies  of 
these  scriptures  require  us  to  declare  the  NATURAL 
DIGNITY  of  man,  and  to  unveil  THE  SOURCE  of  his 
greatness;  and  from  each  of  these  considerations  some 
REFLECTIONS  will  arise,  important  to  us,  as  intelligent, 
responsible  beings. 

The  passages  we  have  selected  convey  a  forcible 
description  of 

1.       THE  NATURAL  DIGNITY  OF  MAN. 

"There  is  a  spirit  in  man" — "Man  became  a  living 
soul."  And 

1.  WHAT  is  SPIRIT?  Every  inquiry  into  the  nature, 
power  and  phenomena  of  mind — every  search  into  its 
union  to  matter,  its  mode  of  operation,  its  dependance, 
or  the  contrary,  upon  this  exterior  vehicle  and  instru- 
ment of  its  volitions — every  question  agitated  respect- 
ing its  modes  of  existence,  and  their  several  relations 
—is  interesting  and  important.  But  these  inquiries 
should  be  made  with  humility,  these  researches  pur- 
sued with  caution,  these  questions  agitated  with  diffi- 


106 

dence,  and  the  several  conclusions  which  we  deduce 
in  support  of  any  favorite  hypothesis,  should  be  in- 
ferred and  maintained  in  a  spirit  totally  opposite  to 
dogmatism:  since,  such  is  our  uncertainty  after  the 
most  laborious  investigations,  and  our  darkness  in  de- 
fiance of  the  lights  which  Revelation  and  philosophy 
have  respectively  furnished,  that  little  more  than  con- 
jecture can  be  obtained  after  all;  and  while  the  pride 
of  man  on  the  wing  for  information,  aspires  to  noth- 
ing less  than  demonstration,  his  reason,  fatigued 
with  her  daring  flight  into  regions  so  unexplored, 
is  compelled,  for  the  most  part,  to  sit  down  at  the 
lowest  stage  of  evidence — probability. 

Our  object  is  not  to  render  this  Lecture  a  mere 
philosophical  essay,  but  simply  and  seriously  to  in- 
quire what  we  are,  and  to  what  we  are  destined.  We 
shall  not  attempt  to  enter  far  into  that,  which  has  been 
the  mj7stcry  of  every  age:  but  shall  be  satisfied  with 
proving  the  position  laid  down,  that  "there  is  a  spirit  in 
rhan." — We  shall  describe  some  of  the  more  obvious 
properties  of  mind,  in  answering  the  inquiry,  "whul  i> 
spirit?"  without  laboring  to  "darken  counsel  by  words 
without  knowledge,"  in  attempting  a  solution  of //*«,', 
which  in  this  world  can  never  satisfactorily  be  sol 

I  feel  within  me  a  principle  superior  to  the  tab  ; 
cle  which  it  inhabits.     I  mark  a  similar   principle  in 
my  brethren  of  mankind:  at  least  I  see  them  alVectcd 
in  the  same  way,  and  I  conclude  that  they  are  agit:. 
from  the  same  causes.     I  discern  these  impressions  in 
a  child  but  faintly:  they  wax  stronger  and   stroi> 
they  grow    with    his     growth,   stren^lhen   with   his 
vigor,  and  increase  with  his  age.     1   discover  inii 

ifi  on  the  animal   creation    resembling   those:    but 
they  are  limited;  they  act  always  in  the    same  way; 


19? 

in  we,  they  are  illimitable;  they  assume  a  thousand 
different  shapes;  and  they  are  confined  to  no  certain 
standard.  I  conclude  that  "there  is  a  spirit  h;  usan.'7 
But  this  spirit  is  not  to  be  defined;  and  is  best  iL.der- 
stood  by  the  effects  that  it  produces. — Let  us  therefore 
inquire, 

2.  WHAT  ARE  ITS  OPERATIONS?  On  all  occasions  it 
compares,  it  combines,  it  reasons,  it  judges.  Whenever 
a  subject  is  presented,  it  considers  its  parts,  compares 
its  probabilities  and  the  contrary,  and  forms  its  decis- 
ions upon  the  preponderance  of  the  one  or  the  other. 
I  see  my  friend;  and  the  sound  of  his  voice  commu- 
nicates joy  to  my  bosom;  its  tones  vibrate  upon  my 
heart,  as  well  as  upon  my  ear.  The  blood  circulates 
along  my  veins  with  greater  rapidity.  Pleasure  di- 
lates all  my  powers,  and  the  feelings  of  my  heart  rush 
to  my  eyes.  I  read  the  same  emotions  in  his  coun- 
tenance. I  see  the  same  rapture  thrilling  through  his 
frame.  It  is  the  mingling  of  kindred  spirits.  Some- 
times the  communication  is  made  through  the  medium 
of  the  eye,  and  his  hand-writing  imparts  the  same 
pleasurable  sensations  as  the  tones  of  his  voice:  but  it 

is  still  the  spirit  that  speaks   within  me.     He  dies 

and  all  is  changed!  The  face  of  nature  seems  no  more, 
lovely.  The  vicissitudes  of  seasons  charm  me  no  lon- 
ger. My  bosom  is  oppressed;  and  as  1  stand  over  the 
grave  of  my  departed  comforts,  my  sorrows  foAce 
their  way  to  my  eyes,  and  my  tears  fall  upon  the  un- 
conscious dust.  I  wander,  in  an  agony  of  grief,  over 
his  deserted  habitation.  Time>  which  mellows  my  af- 
flictions, is  unable  to  remove  it  altogether,  and  it  irsc!l-> 
only  into  the  softer  shade  of  melancholy.  The  sun 
shines,  and  the  seasons  return,  since  his  departure  as 
before:  but  they  are  not  the  same  to  me!  Whence  is 


198 

is  this  change?  or  why  these  emotions  and  passions  at 
all? — "There  is  a  spirit  in  man!" 

When  I  raise  my  hand,  it  is  in  consequence  of  an 
impulse  of  my  mind;  and  when  I  walk  out,  my  will 
determines  the  road  which  I  shall  take:  but  11  tnere 
were  uno  spirit  in  man,'7  there  could  be  no  will  »o  de- 
termine, and  when  that  spirit  is  removed,  the  b 
sinks  into  a  state  of  rest.  Year  after  year,  I  lose  my 
connexions:  but  the  bond  of  our  union  is  inais^oiuoie 
even  by  death.  Memory  uncovers  the  grave, 
and  the  form  of  those  whom  I  ioved,  rises  per- 
fect before  me.  1  meet  them  in  the  room  which  they 
occupied;  and  the  ground  on  which  they  trod  becomes 
holy.  As  the  man  sinks  into  the  vale  of  years,  the 
scenes  of  his  former  days  recur,  in  all  the  vivid  colors 
in  which  they  were  presented  to  him  in  the  days  of 
his  youth.  He  well  recollects  the  house  in  which  his 
childhood  was  passed;  and  the  field  over  which  he 
strolled  in  quest  of  the  wild  flowrer,  or  in  pursuit  of  the 
insect;  and  as  he  reviews  these  early  enjoyment?,  he 
seems  to  live  them  over  again.  This  is  another  of  the 
operations  of  the  mind;  and  it  furnishes  another  evi- 
dence that  "there  is  a  spirit  in  man." 

The  radiance  of  yonder  orb  scarcely  reaches  the 
man.  Science  discovers  that  it  is  a  sun,  or  a  planet; 
and  imagination  pursues  the  thought.  He  roves 
In:  jugh  the  fields  of  infinite  space,  and  without  quit- 
ting the  globe  which  he  inhabits,  strays  beyond  the 
vast  confines  of  the  creation,  presses  into  the  invisible 
worlds,  enters  the  "heaven  of  heavens,"  and  loses  him- 
self before  the  throne  of  God. 

He  si-  <-;>s  —  'but  his  heart  waketh."  The  body  re- 
quires repose;  but  the  mind,  ever  active  and  awake, 
wanders  unfettered  through  all  the  labyrinths  of  fancy. 


199 

It  converses  with  departed  spirits:  it  is  recalled  only  by 
the  light  of  the  morning  chasing  its  visions.  Whence 
is  all  this?  These  operations,  from  what  source  do 
they  flow?  This  understanding — these  passions — this 
memory — this  imagination — these  dreams — what  is 
the  spring  of  them  all?  "There  is  a  spirit  in  man!" 

But  when  the  body  grows  cold — and  its  members 
are  stiff  and  motionless — the  spirit  is  withdrawn.  The 
clay  tabernacle  is  reduced  to  its  original  dust:  but  res- 
pecting the  mind  a  new  question  suggests  itself: — 

3.  WHAT  is  ITS  SEPARATE  STATE?  While  our 
dearest  friends  are  dying  around  us,  and  we  ourselves 
shiver  on  the  brink  of  eternity,  this  is  no  unimportant 
inquiry.  We  understand,  however,  so  little  of  spirit  in 
its  union  with  matter,  that  our  researches  into  its  state 
of  separation  must  be  very  confined;  and  we  are  ac- 
quainted in  so  small  a  measure  with  its  modes  of  ex- 
istence in  this  world,  that  we  are  not  to  expect  very 
extensive  information  of  those  in  which  it  shall  exist  in 
futurity.  We  cannot  doubt  the  fact  that  it  can  exist 
separate  from  the  body,  when  we  consider  some  phe- 
nomena in  its  present  state.  When  the  powers  of  the 
body  are  suspended  in  sleep,  those  of  the  mind  are  in 
action;  and  when  the  eye  is  closed,  the  spirit  in  dreams, 
sees  without  the  aid  of  that  organ.  A  separate  state 
of  existence  for  the  spirit,  when  it  has  left  the  body,  is 
not  impossible;  and  it  appears  to  us  that  the  tenor  of 
the  scriptures  is  against  the  soul  sleeping  scheme.  In 
vain-  did  Paul  wish  "to  depart,"  in  order  to  "be  with 
Christ,"  if  the  soul  sleep  with  the  body  till  the  resur- 
rection of  the  dead;  since  he  would  not  be  nearer  the 
accomplishment  of  his  wish  in  dying,  than  he  was 
while  he  yet  lived:  nor,  if  this  hypothesis  be  true,  is  he 
nearer  to  it  now,  than  he  would  have  been,  had  he 

- 

.-' 


200 

lived  to  the  present  hour.  Neither  indeed  is  he  su 
near  the  attainment  of  his  desire  now,  as  he  was  dur- 
ing his  life:  for  while  he  lived  he  enjoyed  divine  com- 
munications; but  being  dead,  if  the  spirit  sleep  with 
the  body  ,  even  those  communications  which  he  did 
enjoy  are  cut  off — and  all  intercourse  with  the  Deity 
is  suspended  in  long  oblivion  till  the  morning  of  the 
resurrection.  For  Jesus  says,  "God  is  not  the  God 
of  the  dead,  but  of  the  living:'7  Yet  said  he  to  Moses 

"I  am  the  God  of  Abraham,  and  the  God  of  Isaac, 

and  the  God  of  Jacob," — three  hundred  years  after 
their  dust  had  been  consigned  to  the  cave  of  the  field 
of  Machpelah.  The  inference  we  deduce  is,  that  their 
spirits  exist  in  a  separate  state,  while  their  bodies  sleep 
in  the  grave. 

This  state  is  revealed  in  the  scriptures  as  a  state  of 
happiness  or  misery;  and  it  is  not  impossible  for  the 
spirit  to  suffer  and  enjoy  independently  of  the  body; 
and  by  consequence  in  a  state  separate  from  it.  Ob- 
serve yonder  man  suffering  even  to  agony.  What 
horror  is  painted  on  his  countenance!  What  distrac- 
tion looks  through  his  eye!  What  groans  burst  from 
his  bosom!  From  what  does  his  anguish  arise?  His 
body  is  in  health:  no  disease  wastes  him;  no  illness 
shatters  his  frame.  Ah!  it  is  an  inward  sorrow 
that  devours  him — an  inward  sickness  that  con- 
sumes him!  "The  arrows  of  the  Almighty  are 
within  him,  the  poison  whereof  drinketh  up  his  spir- 
it." It  is  conscience  that  suffers:  it  is  the  spirit  that  i* 
!— Awl  oh,  how  sharper  than  all  external  calami 
ty  is  this  disease  of  the  mind!  'The  spirit  of  a  man 
will  sustain  his  infirmity:  but  a  wounded  spirit— who 
.-.an  bear?1'  lie,  who  can  thus  aiilict  the  spirit  when  the 
body  is  in  health,  and  cause  it  to  suffer  independently 
of  the  body—can  fill  it  with  unspeakable  anguish  in 


201 

a  state  of  separation  from  the  body,,  and,  by  a  parity 
of  reasoning,  cause  it  to  enjoy  the  most  exquisite  hap- 
piness. The  assertion  of  the  text  appears  now  to  be 
established — ."there  is  a  spirit  in  man."  A  spirit,  such 
as  we  have  described,  must  in  the  nature  of  things  be 
immortal.  And  the  happiness  or  misery  of  this  spirit 
in  a  future  state,  one  might  rationally  conclude,  even 
did  not  the  scriptures  positively  affirm  it,  must  be 
commensurate  with  its  existence.  But  what  shall  be 
the  modes  of  its  being  in  a  separate  and  eternal  ttate, 
as  we  are  so  partially  acquainted  with  them  in  its 
present  union  with  the  body,  we  must  die  to  learn. 
One  thing  is  clear — man  is  4ia  living  soul;"  and  the 
Bible  furnishes  us  with  the  most  rational  and  valuable 
account  of  his  natural  dignity — and  of  his  future  des- 
tination. By  this  Revelation  we  are  made  acquaint- 
ed with 

II.  THE  SOURCE  OF  HIS  GREATNESS. 

"The  Lord  God — breathed  into  his  nostrils  the 
breath  of  life:"  "the  inspiration  of  the  Almighty — giv- 
eth  him  understanding."  The  amount  of  these  de- 
clarations, and  of  the  combined  testimony  of  the  scrip- 
tures, seems  to  be  comprised  in  the  following  arrange- 
ment. 

1.     "IN    HIM    WE    LIVE,    AND    MOVE,    AND    HAVE   OUR 

BEING."  This  is  the  leading  sentiment  of  the  Bible, 
and  it  is  strictly  reasonable.  It  was  not  more  imme- 
diately the  work  of  God  to  create  the  man  at  the  first, 
than  it  is  to  give  life  to  every  individual  that  is  born 
into  the  world.  He  organizes  the  human  frame;  and 
bestows  the  adaption  of  its  several  parts  to  the  pur- 
poses for  which  they  were  designed.  A  wondrous 
piece  of  machinery,  secret  in  its  most  important  oner 
26 


202 

s,  and  unsearchable  in  the  finer  parts  of  its  con- 
struction!  Internally,  how  complicated!  how  harmo- 
nious! A  thousand   springs  act  upon  each   other — a 
thousand  fibres  are  necessary  to  lite,  which  escape  the 
eye  of  scrutiny.     To    guard  these,  what  care,  what 
wisdom,  are  displayed!  In  the  whole  machine,  what 
compactness!    uhat  strength!   Externally,   what   uni- 
formity! and  yet  what  variety!  What  grace,  what  beau- 
ty, what  perfection!  The  spring  of  all  this  is  life!    The 
several  parts  of  the  machine  we   are  able  to  take  in 
pieces,  and  to   comprehend  their  operations:    but  this 
secret  spring — life — altogether  escapes  us.      We  see 
not  the  hand  that  takes  it  away;  we  know   not   the 
moment  when  it  was  first  given.     Watch  as  narrowly 
as  you  please,  the  precise  instant  of  either  will  remain 
undiscovered.     The  child  comes  into  the  world  pos- 
sessing this  principle,  and  announcing  its  existence,  and 
the  sensibility  connected   vvit'i  it,  by  tears!    The   last 
pulsation  of  the  heart  ceases,  ere  we  are  aware  of  the 
spirit's  departure.    The  closest  observer  of  the  commu- 
nication and  of  the  cessation  of  life,  can  only  say,  in 
relation  to  the  first,  "It  is  there!" — to  the  last — "it  is 
withdrawn!" — An  invisible  hand  forms  the  body,  ani- 
mates it  with  spirit,  expands  the  limbs,  fixes  the  stand- 
ard of  stature,  and  sets  bounds  to  the  stream  of  human 
rxistence.     He  confines  it  now  to  eighty  years,  as  for- 
merly he  extended  it  to  nine  centuries.     Who  will  not 
say — '  1  will  praise  tlnv,"  O  God,  ''for  I  am  fearfully 
and  wonderfully  made? — Marvellous  are  thy   works, 
and  that  my  soul  knmveth  right  well.     My  substance 
•.ui.^not  hid  from  thre,  wii-.-n  1  \va>  made  in  seeret,  and 
curiously  wrought  in  the    lowest    parts  of  the  earth. 
Thine  evi>    ''  !  BCC  my  re,  yet  being  imperfect, 

and  in  thy  book  ail  my  members  were  written,  which 


203 

in  continuance  were  fashioned,  when  as  yet  there  was 
none  of  them!"  By  thfe  "inspiration  of  the  Almighty" 
we  are  wnat  we  are.  in  relation  to  natural  life,  which 
is  given,  withheld,  limited,  and  extinguished,  at  ins 
pleasure. 

2.    "THE  INSPIRATION  OF  THE  ALMIGHTY  GIVETH  US 

UNDERSTANDING."  The  dawn  of  reason  at  the  first 
is  lighted  up  in  the  mind  of  a  child  by  a  Divine  hand. 
He  causes  it  to  brighten,  as  the  limbs  enlarge  their 
size,  and  acquire  vigor.  He  leads  the  powers  of  the 
mind  to  perfection,  and  fixes  their  standard.  He  makes 
all  the  difference  which  we  perceive  subsisting  between 
man  and  man.  He  distributes,  according  to  his  pleas- 
ure, to  some  one — to  others,  ten  talents;  and  he  pro- 
portions their  responsibility  to  each  respectively.  The 
spirit  which  in  this  world  seems  unconfmed,  and 
which  roves  at  large,  with  growing  delight,  through 
all  the  works  of  God;  and  that  which  is  barely  suffi- 
cient to  carry  its  possessor  through  life,  came  from  the 
same  hand;  and  however  different  in  their  capacities, 
are  equally  immortal.  Through  a  thousand  invisible 
channels,  the  Father  of  Spirits  visits  our  spirit;  and  it 
is  in  vain  that  we  desire  to  trace  the  modes  of  his  com- 
munications to  his  creatures.  "God  speaketh  once, 
yea  twice,  yet  man  perceiveth  it  not.  In  a  dream,  in 
a  vision  of  the  night,  when  deep  sleep  fallethupon  men, 
in  slumberings  upon  the  bed:  then  he  openeth  the  ears 
of  men,  and  sealeth  their  instruction." 

He  touches  the  nerve  of  the  brain,  and  the  under- 
standing seems  to  be  lost.  The  spirit  doubtless  is  per- 
fect: but  the  instrument  upon  which  she  operated,  the 
vehicle  of  her  impulses,  the  fibre  upon  which  she  struck, 
is  deranged  and  impaired.  We  are  presented  with 
that  melancholy  union,  the  stature  of  a  man  and  the 


264 

ignorance  of  a  child!  All  is  mystery.  A  mind  Iittk-. 
inferior  to  what  we  conceive  of  angelic  powers,  is  de- 
stroyed by  the  resistless  force  of  its  own  imagination; 
and  reason  is  subdued  by  the  uncontrolled  power  of 
fancy.  Like  a  majestic  building  raised  upon  too  lofty 
a  scale,  it  sinks  under  its  own  pressure — and  from  the 
very  grandeur  of  the  design  becomes  an  heap  of  ruins. 
Like  a  bright  meteor,  shines  the  blaze  of  genius  for  a 
season;  but,  from  some  unknown  cause,  it  is  precipi- 
tated from  its  exalted  sphere  in  a  moment,  and  the  ray 
of  intellect  which  illumined  the  world — expires.  We 
deplore  in  vain  the  ruins  of  that  beautiful  fabric,  the 
human  mind;  and  with  anguish  of  spirit  we  discern 
the  light  of  the  understanding  extinguished.  But  we 
are  not  ignorant  of  the  hand  which  quenches  it.  It  is 
the  same,  that  kindled  it  at  the  first.  These  are  the 
mysterious  transactions  of  the  Fountain  of  Life:  "For 
there  is  a  spirit  in  man,  and  the  inspiration  of  the  Al- 
mighty giveth  him  understanding." 

SPIRITUAL  KNOWLEDGE  is  THE  GIFT  OF  GOD. 
We  too  frequently  see  men  of  distinguished  talents, 
it  deplorably  ignorant  in  that  knowledge,  which  of 
itself  is  able  to  counterbalance  the  want  of  all  others; 
and  without  which,  all  science  is  less  than  nothing. 
We  stand  astonished,  and  look  upon  the  man  as  some- 
thing more  than  mortal.  What  admirable  powers  of 
intellect!  What  a  capacious  understanding!  What 
greatness  of  soul!  What  genius!  What  acquirements! 
What  intelligence!  What  pity  is  it  the  picture  is  not 
I'mMied!  But  the  noble  outline  wants  filling  up  by 
moral  worth;  and  wanting  that,  it  wants  every  thing. 
Ala.-!  '-one  thin:>  ,  needful" — and  the  lack  of  that  one 
thin  worth  of  all!  Without  this,  that 

godlik'-   rapacity   is  degraded:  those  superior  power- 


205 

arc  abused.  They  are  mischievous  rather  than  useful. 
They  are  ruinous  to  their  possessor,  and  injurious  to 
society.  They  are  turned  against  HIM  who  besi.-vu  J 
them.  They  are  wasted  in  wanton  profusion;  but 
they  are  followed  by  a  dreadful  responsibility.  If  it 
should  please  God  to  kindle  a  ray  of  spiritual  light  in 
that  mind,  what  might  not  such  a  man,  in  the  right 
employment  of  such  distinguished  talents,  perform! 
But  in  the  mean  time  our  position  is  established — that 
spiritual  knowledge  is  the  gift  of  God.  "A  man  can 
receive  nothing  except  it  be  given  him  from  above. " 
We  are  naturally  ignorant  in  all  spiritual  concerns. 
Still  worse  than  this,  every  power  of  our  mind  is  di- 
rected against  divine  knowledge.  "This  is  the  con- 
demnation, that  light  is  come  into  the  world,  but  men 
love  darkness  rather  than  light,  because  their  deeds  are 
evil."  He,  who  leads  the  morning  stars,  and  kindled 
the  radiance  of  the  sun;  He,  who  "in  the  beginning," 
said,  "  'Let  there  be  light,'  and  there  was  light;17  He, 
who  bestows  natural  and  intellectual  life  upon  the 
man;  He  it  is,  who  pours  spiritual  knowledge  into  the 
mind,  and  to  Him  is  it  ascribed  in  the  scriptures. 
"There  is  a  spirit  in  man,  and  the  inspiration  of  the 
Almighty  giveth  him  understanding." 

4.  THE   FUTURE   EXISTENCE  OF  THE  SPIRIT  WILL 
FLOW  FROM  GOD.     Leaving  this  woi 'Id,  our  prospects 
are  unbounded,     The  word  of  God  draws  aside  the 
veil,  and  transports  us  to  the  foot  of  the  eternal  throne. 
The  eye  of  faith  numbers  the  different  orders  of  glori 
ous  spirits  which  bend  before  the  Deity.     Fir^t,  the 
various  ranks  of  those  pure  Intelligences,  those  myste- 
rious Beings,  who  never  sinned,  pass  before  the  eye  of 
the  mind.     These  evermore   cry,  "Holy,  holy,   holy 
Lord  God  Almighty"—  and  hide  their  faces  before  un- 


206 

created  Excellence.  And  these  derive  their  existence, 
and  their  powers  from  Him,  before  whom  they  do 
homage.  Then,  the  myriads  of  the  Redeemed  pass 
along  before  us,  divided  into  their  companies,  and  pos- 
sessing their  respective  degrees  of  glory:  but  it  is  ua 
great  multitude  which  no  man  can  number."  Patri- 
archs, prophets,  and  apostles,  lead  the  way:  the  noble 
army  of  martyrs  follows:  the  general  assembly  and 
church  of  the  firstborn,  the  spirits  of  the  just  made 
perfect,  from  Adam  to  the  last  spirit  that  fled  from 
this  vale  of  tears,  are  in  this  illustrious  crowd,  each  of 
them  clothed  in  righteousness,  and  bearing  the  emblem 
of  victory  in  his  hand.  And  these  all  live  upon  the 
"Fountain  of  Life"— all  derive  their  superior  intelli- 
gence from  the  "Father  of  Lights."  "The  inspiration 
of  the  Almighty  giveth  them  understanding."  We 
have  contemplated  the  natural  dignity  of  man,  and  un- 
covered the  source  of  his  greatness;  from  all  that  has 
been  said,  his  destination  may  be  prejudged;  and  in- 
deed it  has  been  interwoven  throughout  the  texture  of 
the  whole  of  this  Lecture:  we  may  keep  it  in  view 
also,  in  setting  before  you 

III.   SOME  REFLECTIONS  ARISING  OUT  OF  THIS   SUBJECT. 

Is  there  "a  spirit  in  man?'' 

1.  How  men  is  ITS  DESTINATION!  It  was  not  de- 
signed to  be  immured  in  these  walls  of  flesh  for  ever. 
The  harps  of  angels  invite  us  to  our  rest.  Departed 
saints  attract  us  forwards.  The  voice  of  God  himself 
calls  us  home.  It  is  the  combined  testimony  of 
the  scriptures,  of  reason,  of  conscience,  that  this  imma- 
terial principle  is  destined  for  the  enjoyment  of  God 
for  ever.  He  who  buries  his  expectations  here  forgets 
•ii'j-nity.  Like,  his  divine  Lord,  the  Christian  pas- 


207 

ses  through  this  world  in  the  shape  of  a  servant;  in  the 
world  of  spirits,  he  shall  appear  in  all  the  majesty  of 
an  heir  of  glory.  Yonder  sun  shall  be  extinguished; 
those  stars  shall  fade;  the  beauties  of  creation  shall  be 
blotted  out;  the  trump  of  God  shall  announce  the 
dissolution  of  nature;  the  heavens  shall  be  wrapped 
together  as  a  scroll;  all  shall  be  consumed;  all  shall  be 
destroyed;  the  whole  globe  shall  be  a  mass  of  ruins; 
but  at  that  instant  the  concealing  curtain  shall  fall;  the 
new  creation  shall  burst  upon  the  enraptured  sight; 
the  redeemed  spirit  shall  be  put  in  possession  of  its 
everlasting  habitation;  and  the  man  shall  enjoy  God 
for  ever.  Such  is  his  high  destination. 

Does  c*the  inspiration  of  the  Almighty  give  us  un- 
derstanding?" 

2.       HOW      OUGHT    THE    POWERS    OF    THE    SPIRIT    TO 

BE  DEVOTED  TO  HIM!  Shall  I  deem  his  service  a 
drudgery,  who  made  me  what  I  am?  who  requires  in 
return  only  that  I  should  fear  him,  and  love  him?  and 
who  in  order  to  induce  me  to  obey  his  commands,  as- 
sumes and  exercises  the  most  tender  of  characters  and 
of  relations?  O,  ungrateful  that  I  am!  shall  I  deem  the 
gentle  requisitions  of  a  father;  the  claims  of  an  elder 
brother,  founded  equally  injustice  and  in  kindness;  the 
expectations  of  a  friend — an  hardship?  Impossible! 
No — had  he  demanded  the  unceasing  tribute  of  my 
spirit;  had  he  marked  out  every  moment  of  my  life; 
as  a  season  of  worship;  I  ought  not,  even  then,  to 
have  deemed  it  an  hard  service!  Did  he  not  bestow 
those  powei  a?  Has  he  not  a  right  to  do  that  which  he 
will  with  his  own?  Does  he  ask  more  than  he  gave? 
Did  not  Jesus  die  to  save  that  spirit?  Surely  his  com- 
mandments are  not  grievous:  but  "his  yoke  is  easy, 
and  his  burden  is  light."  And  are  there  any  who  live 


day  after  day  without  bowing  their  knee  to  God?  Are 
there  any  who  live  in  the  neglect  of  secret  prayer,  up- 
on whom  he  has  bestowed  an  immortal  spirit — per- 
haps distinguished  talents?  How  are  they  to  be  pitied! 
the  voice  of  joy  from  nature  reproaches  them — the 
voice  of  conscience  from  within  reproaches  them — the 

voice  of  the  scriptures  reproaches  them:  for  it  says 

and  reason  seconds  its  injunctions — "Thou  shalt  love 
the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  with  all  thy  mind, 
with  all  thy  soul,  and  with  all  thy  strength." 

Is  there  "a  spirit  in  man?" 

3.  How  VAST  is  ITS  LOSS!  I  shudder  to  paint  the 
lightest  shades  of  this  horrible  picture.  To  die  an  en- 
emy to  God,  is  to  have  all  the  powers  and  capacities 
of  the  mind  blotted  out — I  correct  myself — not  blotted 
out,  but  continued,  and  enlarged,  only  to  increase  the 
agony  of  their  miserable  possessor.  The  tortures  of 
futurity  will  be  augmented  by  the  bitterness  cf  reflec- 
tion and  of  self-reproach.  The  memory  will  be  tena- 
cious of  all  the  scenes  of  the  past  life — and  strong  to 
recall  the  opportunities  which  were  neglected,  the  time 
which  was  wasted,  the  ordinances  which  were  despis- 
ed, the  salvation  which  was  proffered,  and  which  is 
now  for  ever  hid  from  their  eyes!  What  a  dagger  to 
the  heart  is  the  reflection,  '-I  have  done  all  this!  my  own 
hand  lias  pulled  down  ruin  upon  my  head;  my  own 
hand  ha?  extinguishishr-d  the  ray  of  hope  for  ever:  my 
own  hand  has  fixed  the  eternal  bars  of  thib  evrr-dur- 
ing  dungeon!"  Is  it  not  enough  that  now,  when  the 
spirit  is  wounded  by  the  arrows  of  the  Almighly,  the 
accusations  of  conscience  torture  the  bosom  beyond 
the  utmost  stretch  of  thought,  but  will  you  tempt  the 
worst,  and  dare  the  arm  of  Omnipotent  vengeance  to 
strike,  and  '-to  cast  body  and  soul  into  hell?"  Is  it  not 


209 

enough  that  the  groans  from  that  prison  reach  our 
ears?  and  that,  through  the  medium  of  scripture,  their 
language  is  conveyed  to  us?  while  they  cry  in  cease- 
less despair "Oh!  how  have  we  hated  instruction  and 

our  heart  despised  reproof;  and  now  we  eat  of  the 
fruit  of  our  own  way,  and  are  filled  with  our  own  de- 
vices; now  he  laugheth  at  our  calamity,  and  mocketh, 
seeing  our  fear  is  come  as  desolation,  and  our  de- 
struction as  a  whirlwind!"  Will  not  these  mournful 
shrieks  arrest  your  attention,  and  shake  your  purpose 
ye  thoughtless  and  profane!  but  will  you  rush  headlong 
to  the  same  ruin?  and  do  you  with  desperate  rashness 
demand  to  be  "tormented  in  this  flame?"  Yet  pause 
one  moment — are  you  prepared  to  endure  the  worst? 
Have  you  asked  yourselves  the  question  which  Isaiah 
puts  into  the  mouth  of  the  sinners  and  hypocrites  in 
Zion,  "Who  amongst  us  shall  dwell  with  devouring 
fire?  Who  amongst  us  shall  dwell  with  everlasting  burn- 
ings?" Before  you  risk  your  spirit  for  the  fleeting 
allurements  of  time,  and  sacrifice  your  eternal  interests 
to  the  gratifications  of  this  transient  life,  consider  how 
vast  is  its  loss!  Before  you  quite  make  up  your  minds 
that  these  things  are  "cunningly  devised  fables,"  calcu- 
late your  damage,  should  all  this  prove  at  length  a  tre- 
mendous reality! 

Is  fctthere  a  spirit  in  man?" 

4.  HOW  DILIGENTLY  OUGHT  IT  TO  BE  CULTIVAT- 
ED! It  is  the  happiness  of  man,  that  he  has  the  power 
of  increasing  his  talents,  and  enlarging  the  sphere  of 
intellect,  by  diligence  and  by  application.  To  the  hu- 
man spirit  no  boundaries  can  be  prescribed.  Has  God 
given  thee,  O  young  man,  extensive  powers?  Do  not 
diminish  them  by  sloth:  do  not  destroy  them  by  in- 
temperance: do  not  waste  them  in  wanton  expendi- 
27 


210 

ture:  do  not  direct  them  to  purposes  offensive  to  God, 
injurious  to  society,  and,  in  the  event,  destructive  to 
thyself.  Keep  them  as  the  sacred  deposit  of  God. 
Hide  not  thy  talent  in  a  napkin.  Bring  it  forwards 
for  the  service  of  religion,  of  humanity,  and  of  reason. 
It  will  increase  by  use;  and  the  approbation  of  God 
shall  be  thy  reward. 

Brethren,  "now  are  we  the  sons  of  God,  and  it  doth 
not  yet  appear  what  we  shall  be;  but  we  know  that 
when  He,  who  is  our  life,  shall  appear,  we  shall  be 
made  like  him:  for  we  shall  see  him  as  he  is,  and  ap- 
pear with  him  in  glory."  The  present  state  of  the 
spirit,  in  its  highest  perfection  of  natural  and  religious 
culture,  is  nothing  to  the  ;tglory  that  shall  be  revealed." 
But  the  time  presses  on,  when  bending  before  the 
throne  of  God,  it  shall  blaze  forth,  in  the  full  perfec- 
tion of  its  beauty  and  immortality. 

Such  is  the  scriptural  account  of  the  nature  and 
destination  of  man;  and  we  now  make  our  appeal  to 
you,  whether  it  is  not  rational  and  animating.  It 
sanctions  all  that  experience  teaches  us  respecting  the 
natural  powers  of  the  mind.  It  leads  us  up  in  grate- 
ful remembrance  to  him,  who  bestowed  the  principle 
of  life,  at  the  first,  and  who  continues  to  impart  it 
through  all  successive  generations.  It  enhances  its 
value  by  asserting  and  proving  its  immortality.  It 
renders  the  man  useful  to  society,  in  cherishing  the 
love  of  goodness,  and  in  superinducing  hatred  to  vice, 
by  unveiling  the  future  destination  of  the  spirit  to  cter- 
nal  happiness  as  the  free  reward  of  piety,  or  eternal 
misery  as  the  just  judgment  of  sin;  and  thus  furnishes 
a  more  powerful  guard  of  virtue,  and  barrier  against 
vice,  than  all  the  laws  pf  society  could  ioipose  and 
preserve. 


fcli 

He,  then,  that  is  an  enemy  to  Revelation,  is  an  ene- 
my to  HIMSELF.     He  that  opposes  religion,  oppos<  s  his 
best  interests.     He  is  extinguishing,  so  far  as  he  can 
extinguish,  the  light  which  is  s     t  to  guide  him  home; 
and  to  absorb  the  feeble,  inefficient  ray  of  reason  and 
of  nature.     He  is  refusing  the  only  cup  of  consolation 
put  into  his  hand  to  counteract  the  bitter  draught  of 
sorrow.     He  is  rolling  a  great  stone  over  the   mouth 
of  his  own  sepulchre,  and  sealing  it  with  his  own  seal, 
and  making  it  as  sure  as  he  can  in  the  hope  (if  anni- 
hilation can  be  a  subject  of  hope  to  the  human  bos- 
om!) that  he  shall  sleep  there  for  ever:  but  he   shall 
find,  to  his  utter  dismay,  that  the  angel  of  the  Lord 
can  roll  away  the  stone,  and  that  the  mandate  of  heav- 
en will  rouse  his  slumbering  dust.     He  is  the  enemy 
of  MANKIND.     For  he  is  robbing  society  of  the  cement 
which  holds  it  together:  of  the  light  which  has   illu- 
mined these  latter  days:  of  the  source  of  its  intelli- 
gence, of  its  happiness,  of  its  consolations,  of  its  best 
principles.     And  he  who  is  the  enemy  of  man,  is  the 
enemy  of  God;  far  HE  is  the  Parent  of  the  universe: 
the  Friend  of  man;  HE  stamped  human  nature  with 
his  own  image,  and  he  loves  it  still. 

There  is  but  one  principle  on  which  we  can  account 
for  the  hatred  of  the  world  against  revelation;  and  that 
is- — this  very  revelation  asserted  from  the  first,  "the 
carnal  mind  is  enmity  against  God,  it  is  not  subject  to 
the  law  of  God,  neither  indeed  can  be."  And  the 
very  persecutions  it  has  endured,  are  evidences  of  its 
authenticity:  the  very  existence  of  skepticism,  so  far  as 
it  goes,  is  an  unanswerable  argument  against  infidelity 
— because  it  was  foretold  and  accounted  for,  by  the 
Bible  itself,  at  the  very  moment  of  its  promulgation. 


212 

One  should  have  imagined  that  the  gospel  of  Jesus, 
could  have  had  no  enemies.  It  breathes  only  peace. 
It  has  but  one  object — to  promote  the  felicity  of  man- 
kind. It  sweetens  every  connexion  of  human  life. 
It  strengthens  the  cause  of  philanthropy.  The  only 
favor  it  entreats  is,  that  men  would  love  themselves; 
and  while  it  pours  a  thousand  blessings  on  the  present 
transient  existence,  and  lightens  all  the  trials  of  the 
way,  it  shews  wretched,  erring  man,  "the  path  of  life." 
And  yet  every  man's  hand  is  lifted  up  against  itl 
From  its  birth  to  the  present  hour,  every  age  has 
blended  all  its  wisdom  and  all  its  force,  to  crush  Chris- 
tianity. Had  it  required  the  man  to  sacrifice  "his 
first  born  for  his  transgression,  the  fruit  of  his  body  for 
the  sin  of  his  soul" — who  would  have  wondered  that 
nature  should  rise  up  against  it? — Yet  strange  to  say — 
the  horrible  religion  of  the  gentiles,  which  actually  did 
require  this  unnatural  offering,  was  supported,  and  de- 
fended against  Christianity,  with  vehement  obstinacy. 
The  rage  of  man,  on  the  one  side,  exhausted  itself  in 
defence  of  altars  on  which  their  children  had  been  im- 
molated; and  on  the  other,  was  directed  against  a  re- 
ligion which  hastened  to  overthrow  these  blood-stain- 
ed altars,  and  which  said,  "Suffer  little  children  to  come 
unto  me,  and  forbid  them  not;  for  of  such  is  the  kingdom 
of  heaven!" — Had  it  destroyed  the  peace  and  existence 
of  society:  had  it  scattered  war  and  bloodshed  over  the 
earth:  had  it  trampled  on  the  dearest  rights  of  human 
nature — why  then,  some  reason  might  be  given  for  the 
wrath  of  man  against  it.  But  it  disseminates  "peace 
and  good  will  to  man,"  abroad  upon  caith,  while  it 
brings  in  a  revenue  of  "glory  to  God."  We  can  take 
its  most  furious  persecutor  by  the  hand,  when  heravrs. 
"Away  with  it  from  the  earth!"  and  say,  "\Vhy? 


213 

• 

What  evil  hath  it  done?"  And  he  shall  be  unable  to 
assign  a  single  reason  for  his  conduct:  unable  to  lay 
one  sin  to  its  charge:  unable  to  prove  that  in  ::ny  one 
instance  it  is  injurious  to  society:  unable  to  deny,  that 
it  has  been  productive  of  the  most  beneficial  effects — 
that  it  has  removed  all  the  clouds  of  heathenism — that 
it  has  extinguished  the  fires  through  which  wretched 
parents  caused  their  children  to  pass,  and  in  which  the 
fruit  of  their  body  was  consumed — that  it  has  given  to 
the  world  a  new  and  perfect  code  of  morality — that  it 
has  thrown  open  the  gates  of  mortality — that  it  has 
removed  the  bitterness  of  death — and  that  it  has  estab- 
lished, solely  and  unaided,  the  doctrine  of  the  resur- 
rection of  the  dead:  he  shall  be  compelled  to  admit  all 
this,  and  yet,  without  a  single  reason,  merely  from  his 
natural  enmity  to  it,  he  will  continue  to  despise,  to  re- 
ject, and  to  persecute  it!  Humanity  is  concerned  in  the 
progress  of  this  religion:  Humanity  raises  her  voice  in 
favor  of  revelation,  and  entreats,  "Rise  up,  Lord,  let 
thine  enemies  be  scattered;  and  let  them  that  hate  thee, 
flee  before  thee!" 


LECTURE  VIII. 


tHE  SLAVERY  AND  DELIVERANCE  OF  ISRAEL  IN 

EGYPT. 


GEN.  XV,  13,   14. 

And  he  said  unto.Abram,  Know  of  a  surety,  that  thy 
seed  shall  be  a  stranger  in  a  land  that  is  not  their's, 
and  shall  serve  them,  and  they  shall  afflict  them 
four  hundred  years.  And  also  that  nation  whom 
they  shall  serve  will  I  judge:  and  afterward  shall 
they  come  out  with  great  substance. 

ACTS  vil,  35,  36, 

This  Moses  whom  they  refused,  saying,  Who  made 
thee  a  rider  and  a  judge?  the  same  did  God  send 
to  be  a  ruler,  and  a  deliverer,  by  the  hands  of  the 
angel  which  appeared  to  him  in  the  bush.  He 
brought  them  out,  after  that  he  had  shewed  won- 
ders and  signs  in  the  land  of  Egypt,  and  in  the 
Red  Sea,  and  in  the  wilderness  forty  years. 

THERE  is  a  mournful  pleasure  in  recalling  the  words, 
and  reviewing  the  feelings,  of  those  who  are  gone 
before;  and  whose  lot  in  this  world,  like  our  own,  was 
mingled  in  almost  equal  proportions  of  good  and  evil. 
Time  has  effected  changes,  by  his  slow  devastations, 
which  speak  to  the  heart;  and  we  cannot  hear  the 
voice  of  years  departed,  without  feeling  our  attention 
arrested,  and  amid  the  suspension  of  our  employments, 
giving  reverence  to  the  testimony  of  those,  whose  wis- 
dom, snatched  from  that  all- destroy  ing  hand,  remains 


215 

upon  record,  for  our  instruction.  We  open-  this  vol- 
ume, and  are  surrounded  by  scenes  now  blotted  out 
from  the  face  of  nature:  by  actors  who  have  perform- 
ed their  parts,  and  have  vanished  out  of  our  sight. 
Here  we  see  Babylon  rearing  her  majestic  head,  in 
awful  dignity,  over  the  plains  extended  on  every  side. 

We  shut  the  book,  and  the  mighty  empire  disappears 

"Babylon  the  great,  is  fallen!  is  fallen!'7  Oblivion  has 
spread  an  impenetrable  mist  over  the  spot  on  which 
this  queen  of  the  nations  stood,  and  we  look  in  vain  for 
some  traces  of  her  former  greatness.  In  the  Bible  we 
are  introduced  to  Jerusalem  in  all  her  glory,  We  see 
the  tabernacle  of  God  lifting  its  hallowed  curtains  on 
the  summit  of  Mount  Zion.  We  hear  the  voice  of 
the  "sweet  singer  of  Israel"  rising  amid  the  devotions 
of  that  dispensation,  and  his  words  are  chanted  to  the 
harmony  of  a  thousand  stringed  instruments.  We 
withdraw  our  eyes  from  the  sacred  page,  and  imagina- 
tion loses  her  power,  the  visions  which  the  pleasing 
enchantress  painted  before  us,  vanish;  and  we  see  the 
shadows  flit  away,  with  regret.  But  all  is  not  delu- 
sion— the  words  which  we  hear — the  experience  of 
the  persons  whole  lives  we  study — the  precepts  which 

were  given  them,  and  which  still  remain  upon  record 

are  engraven  upon  our  hearts  in  characters  never  to  be 
obliterated. 

Customs  change  with  years.  Yet  is  man  in  the 
present  day,  what  he  was  in  ages  that  are  passed:  on- 
ly he  was  surrounded  by  different  scenes,  he  was  led 
by  different  habits.  His  peculiar  situation,  his  local 
circumstances,  exist  no  longer:  but  he  had  the  same 
principles  common  to  human  nature,  the  same  feel- 
ings, the  same  necessities,  the  same  expectations.  Our 
fathers  felt,  like  ourselves,  the  pleasures  of  hope,  the 


216 

anguish  of  disappointment,  the  pantings  of  suspense, 
the  throbbings  of  joy,  the  pangs  of  fear.  They  lived 
uncertain  of  the  future.  They  trembled  as  they  ap- 
proached the  brink  of  time.  The  world  which  they 
now  inhabit,  and  the  mysteries  of  which  are  now  laid 
open  to  them,  was  once  as  secret,  and  as  much  an  ob- 
ject of  the  mingled  emotions  of  apprehension  and  of 
hope,  to  them  as  to  us.  There  were  moments  when 
their  faith  was  not  in  lively  exercise,  and  when  the 
fear  of  death  was  as  powerfully  felt  in  their  bosoms 
as  in  our  own.  Then  they  fled  to  this  word  for  support, 
and  derived  from  it  the  sweetest  consolation.  Yes — * 
and  we  are  hastening  to  be  what  they  are.  After  a 
few  years,  we  shall  join  their  society.  We  are  float- 
ing down  the  same  stream,  over  which  their  vessels 
have  already  passed:  borne  along  by  the  same  current, 
we  sail  between  the  same  winding  banks,  pass  through 
the  same  straits,  meet  with  the  same  rocks  and  quick- 
sands, and  are  agitated  by  the  same  tempests:  but  they 
have  safely  anchored  in  the  haven,  and  we  are  stretch- 
ing all  our  canvass  to  make  the  same  point  of  destina- 
tion, that,  with  them,  we  may  be  sheltered  from  the 
storm,  for  ever!  We  avail  ourselves  of  the  directions 
which  they  had  left  behind  them,  because  in  all  ages 
"the  Author  and  Finisher  of  our  faith"  is  the  same. 
He  will  be  to  future  generations)  what  he  was  to  them, 
what  he  is  to  us.  When  our  posterity  {.hall  trample 
upon  our  dust,  when  our  very  names  shall  have  per- 
ished'from  the  record  of  time,  when  new  faces  shall 
apjK'ar  on  this  wide  and  busy  scene  of  action,  the 
name  of  God  will  remain  to  our  children,  the  same 
as  it  appears  this  night  to  us,  the  same  as  it  was  an- 
nounced to  Moses  from  the  bush  which  burned  with 
fire  and  was  not  consumed — "I  AM  THAT  I  AM!" 


217 

The  channels  of  a  man's  information  are  confined 
io  the  past  and  to  the  present.  He  travels  with  a  mist 
perpetually  before  his  eyes:  but  when  he  looks  back«— 
the  road  which  he  has  already  trodden  is  clearly  dis- 
cernible: no  vapor  hovers  over  it:  it  is  visible  in  alt 
its  parts,  except  those  very  remote  portions  of  it  which 
have  dwindled  into  the  obscurity  of  prolonged  per- 
spective. The  faithful  and  impartial  record  of  the  in- 
spired pages,  causes  the  earliest  periods  of  time  to  roll 
back  for  the  instruction  of  these  latter  days.  In  a 
moment  we  feel  ourselves  transported  into  the  garden 
of  Gou>  and  hear  his  voice  whispering  amid  the  trees 
of  Paradise  in  the  cool  of  the  day.  We  accompany 
the  patriarch  from  his  country  and  his  father's  house: 
we  traverse  with  him,  conducted  by  an  invisible  hand, 
the  land,  in  the  "length  thereof,  and  in  the  breadth 
thereof:"  we  rest  wherever  he  pitches  his  tent:  we  par- 
ticipate his  d  )iiu'stic  joys  and  sorrows;  and  at  length  we 
follow  him  to  his  Kong  home,  and  see  his  body  deposit- 
€cl  in  the  grave,  there  to  slumber  "until  the  times  of 
the  restitution  of  all  things."  We  are  hurried  into 
the  camps  of  the  Alexanders  and  Csesars  of  the  day; 
we  visit  their  tents,  and  listen  to  their  projects  to  dis- 
turb the  repose  of  mankind:  we  perceive  these  designs 
carried  into  effect,  just  so  far  as  the  wisdom  of  Provi- 
dence permits,  and  no  farther:  and  we  see  these  de- 
iroyers  of  the  order  and  harmony  of  society,  sinking 
one  after  another  into  the  dust  and  the  silence  of  death. 
History  snatches  from  the  hand  of  time,  all  that  is  val- 
uable and  useful.  By  her  magic  pencil  the  departed 
visions  of  ancient  days  return,  and  the  fathers  pass  and 
repass  before  our  eyes,  that  we  may  see,  and  admire, 
and  imitate  their  excellencies:  that  we  may  abhor  and 
avoid  their  vices:  that  we  may  pity  and  escape  their 
£8 


218 

weaknesses:  that  our  understandings  may  be  enlight- 
ened, our  judgments  established  in  the  truth,  and   our 
minds  conducted  through  the  lowly  and  peaceful  paths, 
of  religion  to  the  eternal  temple  of  God. 

And  we  derive  information  from  the  sources  of  pres- 
ent knowledge,  and  from  the  teachings  of  present  expe- 
rience. Every  day  adds  something  to  the  intellectual 
stature  of  an  intelligent  man:  every  day  developes  some- 
thing important  and  interesting.  The  moment  reason 
dawns  upen  the  mind,  the  man  finds  himself  surround- 
ed by  beings  occupying  the  same  rank  with  himself  in 
the  scale  of  creation:  he  feels  his  destiny  and  his  hap- 
piness inseparably  linked  with  theirs;  and  he  awakes 
to  a  sense  of  new  duties,  involving  ia  them  a  corres- 
pondent responsibility.  He  can  no  longer  deem  him- 
self an  idle  spectator  of  the  bustle  and  activity  around 
him.  Every  day  something  transpires  which  affects 
his  interests  and  his  peace:  or  the  interest  and  the  peace 
of  those  whom  he  loves;  and  he  is  drawn  from  his 
solitude  in  spite  of  himself — he  is  roused  into  exertion 
in  defiance  of  his  preference  for  inactivity.  He  is  soon 
involved  in  a  thousand  perplexities.  He  calls  in  the 
assistance  of  his  contemporaries,  that  he  may  avail  him- 
self of  the  aid  of  their  observations,  in  connexion  with 
his  own,  to  learn  something  of  the  road  which  they 
are  mutually  travelling;  and  that  by  their  combined  ex- 
ertions they  may  more  successfully  combat,  and  more 
effectually  subdue,  the  temptations  by  which  they 
are  mutually  assaulted.  We  are  justified  then,  my 
friends,  in  trying  every  source  of  information  which 
(i-)d  permits  to  us — and  not  only  in  availing  ourselves 
of  present  experience,  but  in  plundering,  as  at  this  time, 
the  past  of  its  treasures. 


219 

But  we  know  nothing  of  futurity.  God  has  reserv- 
ed to  himself  the  knowledge  of  that  svhich  shall  be:  and 
he  conceals  it  from  the  highest  orders  of  his  intelligent 
ereation. 

Chain'd  to  his  tin-one  a  volume  lies, 

With  all  the  fates  of  men: 
With  ev'ry  angel's  form  and  size 

Drawn  by  th*  eternal  pen. 

His  providence  unfolds  the  book» 

And  makes  his  counsels  shine; 
Each  opening  leaf,  and  ev'ry  stroke, 

Fulfils  some  deep  design. 

Here  he  exalts  neglected  worms: 

To  sceptres  and  a  crown: 
Anon*he  following-  page  he  turns. 

And  treads  the  monarch  down. 

Nor  Gabriel  asks  the  reason  why, 

Nor  God  the  reason  gives; 
Nor  dares  the  favorite  angel  pry 

Between  the  folded  leaves1.1* 

•^ 

We  may  go  back  to  the  creation  of  the  world,  but  we 
know  not  what  shall  be  on  the  morrow.  He  alone 
knoweth  the  end  from  the  beginning;  and  we  shall 
have  occasion  to  notice  a  most  decisive  evidence  of 
this  foreknowledge,  in  the  prediction  with  which  we 
commenced  this  Lecture  respecting  the  subject  of  the 
present  discussion,  and  which  was  delivered  four  hun 
dred  years  before  the  event  to  which  it  relates  was  ac- 
complished, i 
The  book  of  EXODUS  commences  with  a  recital, 
by  name,  of  the  eleven  patriarchs,  who  accompanied 
their  father  into  EGYPT,  God  having  sent  Joseph  be- 
fore them,  to  provide  for  them,  and  to  nourish  their 
little  ones.  With  conciseness  characteristic  of  the  sa- 
cred wri  tings,  Moses  sums  up  the  number  of  the  family 

•  Dr.  \V alts'  L^ric  Poems,     b  1.  poem 


220 

of  Jacob,  sweeps  off  that  generation,  exhibits  the  in- 
creasing population  of  their  descendants,  and  hastens  to 

THE     SLAVERY    AND     DELIVERANCE    OF     ISRAEL     Il4 

EGYPT:  which  part  of  his  narration  is  to  occupy  your 
attention  at  this  time.  We  shall,  as  usual,  simply  de- 
tail the  facts  as  they  are  recorded  by  Moses,  and  cor- 
roborate them  by  foreign  testimonies.  Let  us 

1.  DETAIL  THE  FACTS  AS  THEY  ARE  RECORDED  BY 

MOSES. 

In  discovering  the  sources  of  the  slavery  and  suffer- 
ings of  the  Israelites,  we  are  naturally  led  to  contem- 
plate the  wonderful  changes  effected  by  the  lapse  of 
a  few  years.  Nor  shall  we  find  it  difficult  to  persuade 
those,  of  the  truth  and  fidelity  of  the  sacred  historian's 
representations  on  this  point,  who  have  accustomed 
themselves  to  mark  the  vicisitudes  around  them,  caused 
by  the  revolution  of  a  few  months,  not  to  say  years. 
What  changes  are  effected  in  one  year!  When  we 
separate,  who  can  say  whether  we  shall  see  each  oth 
er's  faces  in  the  flesh  again?  We  meet  at  the  house  of 
friendship — we  behold  the  father  of  a  family  happy 
and  exulting.  The  bloom  of  health  blushes  in  UK- 
cheek  of  his  children.  The  partner  of  his  life  enjoys 
Unusual  vivacity.  We  return— but  grief  spreads  her 
shadow  over  his  countenance.  In  the  intermedia! r 
space  of  a  few  weeks,  the  spoiler,  death,  has  rubbed 
him  of  his  wife,  or  of  some  of  his  children:  or  perhaps 
we  find  the  mother  a  widow,  and  the  children  lather- 
less.  A  man  who  travels  along  the  'sale  of  years,  frnds 
himself  deserted  by  his  contemporaries,  an!  j 
through  the  most  gloomy  part  <•!  his  \\^y.  uh'ile  th*1 
evening  sun  sets  upon  him.  alone.  Frme  have  left  hir* 
from  mutability  of  disposition:  re  <livi<:ed  ' 


him  by  distance:  some  have  been  separated  from  his 
interests,  by  forming  new  connexions,  some  have  been 
driven  from  his  embraces  by  the  envenomed  tongue  of 
calumny:  some  have  gone  before  him  into  the  lane  (if 
spirits.  And  thus  the  sons  of  Jacob  sunk  one  a  TUT 
another  into  the  grave,  till  Egypt  was  covered  with  a 
new  generation,  mutually  strange  to  each  other. 

How  much  is  suspended  upon  the  life  of  an  individ- 
ual! What  an  object  of  weakness,  what  a  broken  reed, 
is  that  individual  sinking  into  the  arms  of  death!  How 
soon  his  services  are  forgotten,  and  his  memory  is  bu- 
ried with  him  in  his  sepulchre!  Connected  with'liie,  are 
all  the  diversified  comforts  with  which  the  human  mind 
has  formed  any  acquaintance.  The  charities  of  friend 
ship,  the  blessings  of  society  in  all  its  ramifications,  the 
felicity  of  domestic  enjoyments,  the  relations  of  father 
and  child,  of  husband  and  wife,  of  a  man  and  his  broth- 
er, the  reciprocal  duties  arising  out  of  these,  the  con- 
solations immutably  connected  with  them — are  all  sus- 
pended in  this  trembling  balance — LIFE — are  all  oblit- 
erated in  the  instant  of  its  expiration — all  vanish,  when 
the  spirit  quits  the  clay  tabernacle!  Yonder  fragment  of 
the  human  form — the  wreck  of  man — all  that  has  fal- 
len into  the  relentless  hand  of  death, — once  enjoyed 
the  comforts,  the  magnificence,  the  pride  of  power — 
diffused  the  felicity  whrdi  he  participated — acted  and 
moved  a  prince  in  the  circle  of  society-- a ccl,  a  star  ot 
the  first  magnitude,  irradiated  the  satellites  which  re- 
volved around  him.  To  him  the  young  looked  up 
for  intelligence:  his  tongue  moved  only  to  utter  wisdom, 
and  his  words  dropped  as  the  latter  rain.  When  he 
opened  his  lips  every  murmur  was  hushed,  and  thou- 
sands moved  not,  held,  as  it  were  by  enchantment,  and 
hound  by  the  rnagic  of  his  eloquence.  Such  he  was!' 


222 

but  all  these  honors  stood  inseparably  connected  with 
life,  and  with  its  exhausted  lamp,  the  ray  of  intelligence 
which  illumined  the  world — expired!  Such  was  Jo- 
seph— but  when  he  died,  the  light  of  his  brethren  was 
quenched,  and  the  staff  of  his  father's  house,  broken! 

"And  Joseph  died,  and  all  his  brethren,  and  all  that 
generation."  Who  is  not  charmed  with  this  impres- 
sive mode  of  describing  the  revolutions  of  time?  Other 
writers  with  me,  would  have  dwelt  long  upon  a  theme 
so  copious,  and  would  have  exhausted  all  their  elo- 
quence upon  a  subject  which  furnishes  such  ample 
scope  for  description.  But  what  prolonged  narrative 
could  be  equally  striking  with  this  single  verse?  Its 
brevity  in  a  moment  sets  before  you  the  velocity  with 
which  the  stream  rolls  ages  and  generations  along  to 
the  illimitable  abyss  of  eternity.  There  is  not  a  peri- 
od to  the  sentence  till  a  whole  generation  is  swept 
away!  One  should  imagine  that  Moses  had  snatched 
a  feather  from  the  wing  of  time,  to  record  the  swift- 
ness of  his  flight,  and  the  rapidity  of  his  desolations! 

Joseph  died — but  the  God  of  Abraham  lived — lived 
to  remember  and  to  accomplish  his  promise.  "And  the 
children  of  Israel  were  fruitful,  and  increased  abun- 
dantly, and  multiplied,  and  waxed  exceeding  mighty: 
and  the  land  was  filled  with  them."  Their  preserva- 
tion in  this  deserted  condition  is  rendered  credible  by 
that  which  our  eyes  witness  every  day,  in  their  pres- 
ent population,  the  marks  which  they  carry  in  their 
countenance  decisively  characteristic  of  their  nation, 
and  their  separation  from  all  the  people  among  whom 
they  dwell,  although  scattered  over  the  face  of  the 
whole  earth.  This  is  one  of  the  standing  miracles 
which  infidelity  can  neither  gainsay  nor  resist 


223 

"Now  there  arose  a  new  king  over  Egypt  who 
knew  not  Joseph."  It  is  not  improbable  that  he 
might  be  a  stranger,  or  a  foreigner,  exalted  to  the 
throne,  for  the  government  of  Egypt  was  elective,  and 
their  princes  successively  took  the  name  of  Pharoah, 
as  it  was  the  custom  of  the  Roman  emperors  long 
afterwards  to  bear  that  of  Caesar.  And  if  this  mon- 
arch was  chosen  from  among  the  Egyptians,  seven 
kings  had  reigned,  and  sixty  years  elapsed,  between, 
the  death  of  Joseph  and  his  ascension  to  the  throne;  a 
space  of  time  more  than  sufficient  to  obliterate  the  sig- 
nal services  of  a  minister  from  the  bosom  of  princeSo 
The  bodily  strength  of  the  Israelites,  and  their  pro- 
digious numbers,  alarmed  this  jealous  monarch;  and 
with  narrow,  barbarous  policy,  he  "set  over  them  task- 
masters to  afflict  them,  and  they  made  their  lives  bit- 
ter with  hard  bondage."  It  was  now  that  the  prophecy 
delivered  to  Abraham  began  to  be  accomplished:  for* 
they  were  "strangers  in.  a  land  that  was  not  theirs" — 
and  that,  in  a  state  of  servitude. 

The  hand  of  God  continued  to  work  in  defiance  of 
the  weak  and  cruel  king  of  Egypt,  a4id  "the  more  they 
afflicted  them,  the  more  they  multiplied  and  grew." 
The  measures  of  Pharaoh  became  proportionably  se- 
vere; and  not  satisfied  with  imposing  the  fetters  of  sla- 
very, he  commanded  that  every  male  child  should  be  cast 
into  the  river  so  soon  as  it  was  born.  This  decree,  a& 
unnatural  as  it  was  sanguinary,  was  executed  but  too 
severely  by  those  to  whom  the  commission  was  given! 
The  voice  of  lamentation  was  heard  throughout  the 
land;  "Rachel,  weeping  for  her  children,  refused  to  be: 
comforted  because  they  were  not."  Day  after  day 
the  sun  arose  and  set  in  blood.  In  childbirth  thr- 


mother  felt  the  double  pangs  of  nature:  she  no  longer 
rejoiced  when  a  man  child  was  born  into  the  world  as 
the  recompense  of  her  pains:  she  could  no  longer  look 
forwards  with  pleasing  hope,  and  say,  "This  same  shall 
comfort  us,  concerning  our  work  and  the  toil  of  our 
hands:"  the  moment  the  infant  beheld  the  light,  the 
stern  decree  of  the  inhuman  monarch  consigned  it  to 
the  grave! 

At  this  perilous  period  Moses  was  born.  Three 
months,  three  anxious  months,  maternal  tenderness 
eluded  the  vigilance  of  the  king,  and  the  mother  con- 
cealed her  child.  She  struggled  to  save  his  life  so  long 
as  it  was  practicable:  the  danger  became  every  day 
more  pressing;  and  there  remained  to  her  but  one  des- 
perate resource — if  resource  it  might  be  called,  which 
hope  scarcely  dared  to  flatter,  and  which  was  no  less 
than  to  expose  her  babe  on  the  banks  of  the  river. 
What  could  she  do?  Say,  ye  mothers,  what  would 
you  have  done?  If  she  kept  him  he  must  die:  if  she 
exposed  him  there  was  a  possibility — a  bare  possibility 
that  he  might  live!  An  ark  of  bulrushes  was  quickly 
framed;  and  in  this  frail  casket,  she  laid  the  jewel 
more  precious  to  her  than  thousands  of  gold  and  silver, 
in  the  flags  by  the  river's  brink.  Tearing  herself  from 
the  spot,  she  consigned  to  his  sister  the  cruel  task  of 
watching  what  would  become  of  him.  Yonder  he 
lies,  sleeping  on  the  banks  of  the  Nile,  unconscious  of 
th<!  dangers  which  hover  around  his  defenceless  head. 
Under  the  surface  of  the  waieis,  slumbered  the  fierce, 
unpilying  crocodile,  the,  native  of  that  river.  Should 
a  breath  of  wind  arise,  the  bulrush  ark  would  be  waft- 
ed from  the  flags,  and  precipitated  into  the  midst  of 
the  stream,  alas!  too  trail  long  to  resist  the 

vvav 


225 

In  this  interval  of  bitter  suspense,  the  daughter  of 
Phanioh  drew  near  to  the  river,  and  discovering 
the  ark,  commanded  that  it  should  be  brought  to  her. 
"And  when  she  had  opened  it,  she  saw  the  child:  and 
behold,  the  babe  wept."  The  pressing  calls  of  hunger 
broke  his  repose,  and  he  missed  the  warm,  affectionate 
embrace  of  his  mother.  His  limbs  were  chilled  by  the 
cold  waves,  and  his  tears  excited  the  compassion  of  the 
princess.  His  sister,  who  stood  by,  with  feelings 
which  cannot  be  described,  a  spectator  of  the  whole 
scene,  was  sent  to  call  an  Hebrew  woman  to  nurse 
him:  and  "the  maid  went  and  called  the  child's 
mother/' 

Ah,  little  did  the  princess  imagine,  when  she  snatched 
this  helpless  babe  from  a  watery  grave,  that  she  was 
the  instrument  of  raising  up  a  deliverer  toihe  Israelites, 
who  should  shake  the  throne  of  Egypt  to  its  founda- 
tion. She  little  thought  that  the  deserted  child  of  a 
wretched  Hebrew  slave,  when  increased  in  years, 
would  acquire  unparalleled  glory,  as  a  legislator,  as  a 
prophet,  as  a  general,  and  as  a  monarch.  She  did  not 
foresee,  when  she  beheld  the  ark  floating,  the  sport  of 
winds,  and  the  child  exposed  equally  to  the  waters, 
and  to  the  crocodiles  of  the  river,  and  pity  touched 
her  bosom,  that  he  would  stand  upon  the  shores  of  the 
Red  Sea,  not  only  the  witness,  but  the  instrument,  of 
the  destruction  of  the  flower  and  strength  of  Egypt: 
and  that  he  would  thus  become  the  righteous  avenger, 
at  once  of  the  cruelties  of  her  father  and  his  successor, 
and  of  the  wrongs  of  his  brethren,  which  they  had  so 
long  endured,  in  patient  submission,  and  with  broken 
spirits! 

"And  the  child  grew"— and  Stephen  adds;  he  "was 
learned  in  all  the  wisdom  of  the  Egyptians."     With  a 
29 


226 

modesty  becoming  the  meekest  of  men,  Moses  passes 
over  his  several  attainments:  but  the  testimony  of  the 
first  martyr  for  Christianity  is  abundantly  confirmed, 
by  the  intrinsic  excellence  of  those  very  compositions 
which  are  now  passing  under  our  review.  CLEMENS 
ALEXANDRINUS*  asserts,  "that  Moses  was  taught 
arithmetic,  geometry,  physic,  music,  and  hieroglyph- 
ics: to  which  Philo  adds  astronomy. "t  Should  any 
one  be  disposed  to  insinuate,  or  to  imagine,  that  from 
the  fables  of  Egypt  Moses  framed  his  history  of  the 
creation,  let  him  compare  the  Egyptian  hypothesis, 
which  is  all  confusion  and  absurdity,  with  the  scriptu- 
ral account,  which  is  all  order  and  perspicuity:  besides 
which,  we  have  the  most  decisive  evidences,  that  the 
Egyptian  hypothesis  is  later  by  far  than  the  Mosaic 
writings.  The  oldest  writers  extant  yield  to  Moses  in 
point  of  antiquity;  and  however  distorted  their  com- 
positions are,  they  betray  their  source,  andkbear  strong 
internal  evidences,  that  they  are  imperfect  traditions 
from  these  pure  records. 

If  Moses  was  indebted,  in  the  first  instance,  to  the 
literature  of  Egypt,  for  the  high  rank  which  he  holds 
among  the  ancient  writers,  he  was  indebted  still  more 
to  the  capacious  natural  powers  which  God  bestowed 
upon  him,  without  which,  no  culture  of  science  could 
have  elevated  him  so  high,  as  an  historian  of  such  lit- 
erary eminence.  lie  furnishes  one  among  im:i.y  >ivi- 
dences,  that  in  a  variety  of  respects  one  man  dill-  rs 
from  another.  In  respect  of  TALKNTS,  man  differs 
from  man.  We  sometimes  meet  with  a  spirit  emerg- 
ing from  its  native  obscurity,  and  attracting  the  admi- 
ration of  the  world.  Every  thing  conspired  to  throw 

lib.  i-     Sec  Anc.  Univ.  Hist.  vol.  II.  b.  i.  cljap.  7,  note  N. 
t  I'hil  >  in  vit.  Mosis. 


227 

the  man  into  the  shade.     Poverty  frowned  upon  his 
birth,  and  shut  the  doors  of  knowledge  against  him. 
When  he  entered  life,  he  mingled  unnoticed  with  the 
crowd.     But  none  could  close  the  book  of  nature  be- 
fore him,  and  no  disadvantages  could  suppress  the  vig- 
or of  a  spirit,  born  to  rise,  and  to  astonish.     Follow- 
ing only  the  benignity  of  nature,  he  brings  from  his 
mind  such  ample  stores  of  observation,  and  discovers 
so  much  native  genius,  that  he  ascends  at  once  to  em- 
inence; and  like  a  sun  veiled  from  his  rising,  reveals  at 
once  to  the  world  his  glory  in  its  noontide  brightness. 
Hard  by  him  stands  one,  forced  into  notice.     He  was 
born  noble  and  affluent.     Every  possible  mean  of  im- 
provement was  put  into  his  hand,  and  the  book  of 
knowledge  was  opened  to  his  view.     No  pains  were 
spared,  no   expense  was  withheld,  in  his  education. 
And  yet  his  very  elevation  is  painful.     It  is  that  of 
fortune,  and  not  that  of  nature      He  is  always  placed 
in  a  conspicuous  situation,  to  be  always  despised;  and 
the  literary  advantages  which  he  enjoyed,  have  been 
unable  to  correct  the  deficiences  of  nature.     They  de- 
scended upon  his  unfruitful  mind,  like  the  showers  of 
the  spring  upon  the  sands  of  the  desert,  which  imbibe 
the  rain,  but  return  neither  grass  nor  flower.  In  respect 
of  LITERATURE,  one  man  differs  from  another.     Here 
stands  a  favored  son  of  science,  who  has  access  to  na- 
ture in  all  her  parts,  through  the  avenues  of  deep  and 
learned  research.      He   has  made  the  dead,  and  the 
living,  contribute  to  his  pleasure,  and  to  his  improve- 
ment.    He  has  plundered  time  of  all  the  treasures, 
which  he  had  snatched  from  falling  empires,  and  res. 
cued  from  the  greedy   grave    of  oblivion.     And  he 
moves  among  his  fellow  men,  an  angel   for  illumi- 
nation, and  an  oracle  for  wisdom.     There  slands  his 


228 

neighbor,  gazinp  with  unconscious  eyes  upon  the  pag£ 
which  he  is  devouring.     He  sees  no  beauty   in  that 
oration — no  force  in  that  train  of  reasoning — no  con- 
clusion in  that  demonstration— no  order  in  those  star- 
ry heavens.     All    access  to  the  tree  of  knowledge  is 
denied  to  him;  and  he  turns  from  the  page  full  of  ge- 
nius, of  energy,  of  intelligence,  and    says,  "I  cannot 
read  it,  for  I  am  not  learned."     In  respect  of  RANK  IN 
SOCIETY,  one  man  differs  from  another.     One  is  born 
to  sway  a  sceptre,  and  to   rule  a  powerful  empire. 
Nations  tremble  at  his  frown,  and  princes  are  his  ser- 
vants.    His  navy  thunders  along  every  hostile  shore, 
and  the  sword  of  his  army  is  drunk  with  the  blood  of 
the  slain.     He  travels — and  a  whole  country  is  in  mo- 
tion.    Harbingers  precede  his  face,  guards  encompass 
his  person,  a  willing  people  bow  the  knee  to  him.     Net 
daring  to  lift  his  eyes,  yonder  peasant  retires,  as  the 
equipage  passes,  and  turns  hisrough  hand,  rendered  hard 
by  labor,  to  the  most  menial  services.     He  eats  bread, 
and  drinks  water,  with  heaviness  of  heart.     A  large 
family  multiplies  upon  him.     His  children   cry   with 
hunger.     He  gives  them  all — he  divides  the  last  loaf 
among  them,  und  returns  himself  faint  to  the  labor  of 
the  field,  without  tasting  a  morsel,  lest  he  should  dimin- 
ish their  scanty  pittance.     And  yet  he  also  is  a  child 
of  humanity!  In  respect  of  RELIGIOUS  PKINCIPLI;,  one 
man   differs    from  another.     Here,  is  a  man  who 
ceives  every  blessing  us  the  gift  of  heaven  with  thank- 
fulness: who  bends  with  lowly  resignation   under  the 
stroke  which  robs  him  of  his  comforts.      Jn  his  habi- 
tation, however  humble,  the  voice    of  prayer    and   of 
praise;  is  constantly  heard;  and  his  comfoits,  however 
few,    are    augmented    by  .lign    influent  <-s    <ll 

piety.     There,  is  a  wretched  man,  <.!<  en.cd  happy   by 


220 

the  world,  who  never  bowed  his  knee  before  God  his 
maker;  and  never  knesv  a  gratification  beyond  pain 
pering  his  appetite,  and  amassing  wealth.     Yet  both 
are  men,  and  equally  responsible  to  G^l.     With  grrut 
natural   genius,   Moses   enjoyed  profound  literature: 
from  an  obscure  situation  he  rose  high  in  the  rank  of 
society:  to  all  these,  he  added  fervent  piety;  and  for 
all,  he  was  far  more  indebted  to  God  than  to  man. 

Respecting  the  first  forty  years  of  his  life  nothing  i 
recorded  by  Moses  himself;  and  we  shall  not  fill  up  the 
blank  by  reciting  the  fables  of  the  Jewish  rabbles. 
But  one  thing  stands  on  record,  by  the  pen  of  an  apos- 
tle, and  that  is  to  his  everlasting  honor:  that,  "when 
he  was  come  to  years,  be  refused  to  be  called  the  son 
of  Pharaoh's  daughter;  choosing  rather  to  suffer  afflic- 
tion with  the  people  of  God,  than  to  enjoy  the  pleas- 
ure of  sin  for  a  season:  esteeming  the  reproach  of 
Christ  greater  riches  than  the  treasures  of  Egypt:  for 
he  had  respect  unto  the  recompense  of  the  reward." 

Having  attained  the  stature  and  strength  of  a  man, 
the  first  effort  of  Moses  was  to  break  the  rod  of  op- 
pression. Seeing  an  Egyptian  smite  an  Israelite,  one 
of  his  brethren,  with  much  barbarity,  he  slew  the  of- 
ficer, and  buried  him  in  the  sand.  It  should  seem,  that 
this  action  was  performed  under  a  divine  commission, 
since  Stephen  says,  "he  supposed  his  brethren  would 
have  understood,  how  that  God  by  his  hand  would 

deliver  them;  but  they  understood  not." So  far  from 

it,  that  the  next  day,  when  two  Hebrews  strove,  and 
he  interposed  his  friendly  offices  towards  healing  the 
breach,  they  not  only  did  not  accept  his  mediation,  hut 
accused  him  of  the  slaughter  of  the  Egyptian.  The 
thing  reached  the  ears  of  the  king;  and  Moses  finding 
that  it  was  known,  and  that  his  life  was  in  danger,  {led 


280 

into  the  land  of  Midian,  in  Arabia  Petrea,  the  me- 
tropolis of  which  was  called  Petra,  not  far  from  Ho- 
reb:  which  was  either  a  mountain  near  that  of  Sinai, 
or  Sinai  and  Horeb  were  two  summits  of  the  same 
mountain,  or  Horeb  was  the  common  name  for  the 
whole  ridge  of  mountains  upon  which  Sinai  was  situ- 
ated: so  denominated  probably  from  their  excessive 
dry  ness.* 

,  In  his  banishment  he  married  Zipporah,  the  daugh- 
ter of  the  priest,  or  prince,  of  Midian:  by  whom  lie 
had  a  son,  whom  he  called  Gersham,  which  signifies, 
"a  stranger  here"  in  allusion  to  his  own  situation. 
About  this  time  the  king  of  Egypt  died:  and  his  succes- 
sor, in  compliance  with  customs  of  the  time,  was  also 
called  Pharaoh:  but  this  change  in  the  government  of 
Egypt,  effected  no  relaxation  in  the  sufferings  of  Israel. 
But  at  length  the  hand  of  God  was  interposed;  and 
the  set  time  for  the  expiration  of  their  bondage  having 
arrived — God  "heard  their  cries — remembered  his 
covenant — looked  upon  his  people — and  had  respect 
unto  them."  While  Moses  kept  the  flock  of  his  fa- 
ther-in-law at  the  foot  of  Horeb,  he  saw  a  bush  which 
burned  with  fire,  and  was  not  consumed:  striking  em- 
blem of  the  state  of  his  brethren,  who  were  at  that 
time — '-persecuted,  but  not  forsaken — cabt  down,  but 
not  destroyed!"  Turning  aside  to  examine  this  phe- 
nomenon,  the  voice  of  God  addressed  him,  and  com- 
manded him  to  draw  off  his  shoes,  because  the  ground 
on  which  he  stood  was  holy.  Perhaps  the  custom  of 
persons  putting  off  their  shoes  when  they  entered  a 
'••mplr,  of  which  we  read,  might  arise  originally  from 
B  niie  tradition  of  this  history. 

Anc.  Univ.  Hist  Vol.  ii.  b-  i.  cliap.  7-  nole  Q. 


231 

And  now  opens  his  awful  commission — a  commis- 
sion so  novel  in  its  kind,  so  difficult  in  its  execution, 
and  so  important  in  its  consequences,  that  we  cannot 
wonder  at  the  reluctance  which  Moses  felt  and  mani- 
fested, when  commanded  to  undertake  it.  But  who 
is  able  to  withstand  the  counsel  of  God?  His  objections 
are  overruled:  his  difficulties  are  removed:  his  brother 
Aaron  is  joined  with  him  in  the  embassy;  and  the 
great  and  awful  name,  JEHOVAH,  is  the  name  by  which 
God  sends  to  the  Israelites.  This  name  was  after- 
wards never  pronounced  by  the  Jews  but  once  a  year, 
and  then  by  the  high  priest  only,  in  dismissing  the 
people. 

Who  is  not  prepared  for  some  great  events,  when 
the  embassy  is  not  from  one  prince  to  another,  but 
from  God  to  man?  The  commission  of  Moses  open- 
ed and  closed  with  miracles.  God  had  said  that  he 
would  "judge  the  nation"  which  should  "oppress"  the 
seed  of  Abraham;  and  he  therefore  permitted  the 
heart  of  the  king  of  Egypt  to  be  hardened.  Upon 
this  principle,  perhaps,  we  may  account  for  the  circum- 
stance, of  his  suffering  the  magicians  successfully  to 
imitate  some  of  the  miracles  of  Moses.  A  question 
has  long  been  agitated  respecting  the  operations  of 
these  men,  the  power  by  which  they  were  performed, 
the  agency  of  demons,  and  the  existence  of  magical 
arts.  It  is  a  discussion  foreign  to  a  simple  narration 
of  facts:  and  would  your  time  allow  us  to  bring  for- 
wards the  various  opinions  of  those  who  have  written 
on  the  subject,  we  should  only  weary  your  attention, 
and  bewilder  your  imaginations.* 

*See  note  1.  of  this  Lecture  at  the  end  of  the  volume. 


232 

It  could  afford  you  no  pleasure  to-night  to  recount 
the  unequal  contest  between  Pharaoh,  and  the  Deity: 
to  see  a  worm  of  the  dust,  lifting  up  his  hand  against 
God;  or  to  dwell  upon  the  afflictions  which  he  brought 
upon  himself,  and  upon  his  people.  All  nature  was 
armed  against  this  rebel.  The  water  throughout 


turned  into  blood:  and  when  it  recovered 
its  natural  color  and  qualities,  it  became  prolific,  and 
was  the  source  of  a  new  plague,  in  sending  forth 
swarms  of  frogs.  The  very  dust  of  the  earth  was  an- 
imated, and  was  made  an  instrument  of  torture.  The 
air  was  filled  with  insects.  The  cattle,  and  the  inhab- 
itants of  the  land,  died,  with  diseases  new  and  intoler- 
able. The  artillery  of  heaven  opened  upon  this  stub- 
born empire:  God  "cast  forth  his  ice  like  morsels;" 
he  "thundered  in  the  beavens,"  and  "the  fire  ran  along 
the  ground."  And  what  the  hail  and  the  tempest  had 
spared,  the  next  display  of  divine  power  utterly  de- 
stroyed. An  east  wind  blew  a  day  and  a  night,  and 
an  army  of  locusts  rode  upon  its  rough  pinion.  Ter- 
rible beyond  description  is  the  desolation  effected  by 
these  irresistible  invaders  in  a  few  hours;  and  unhappy 
is  the  country  wherever  they  alight  —  for  they  leave  it 
"a  desolate  wilderness!"  When  these  fearful  enemies 
were  withdrawn,  a  darkness,  prolonged  three  days  and 
three  nights,  brooded  over  this  wretched  people  —  a 
darkness  which  might  be  felt! 

"Not  such  as  this;  not  such  ris  nature  mates; 
A  midnight,  nature  shuddeiM  to  h-  '.ioU; 
A  midnight  ft  ;<<1  eclipse  (without 

,'os.ing  split-res)  from  her  Creators  frown!"* 

Night  Thoughts:  Night  IV.  1.  C4r--250. 


233 

With  inflexible  obstinacy  the  king  refused  to  release 
the  Israelites,  and  the  last  blow  was  now  to  be  struck. 
Behold  then,  the  families  of  Egypt  retiring  to  rest,  as 
every  family  retires — anticipating  the  pleasures  and 
the  duties  of  the  morrow.  The  young  man  bounds  tu 
his  chamber,  with  a  foot  unwearied  by  labor.  The 
only  son  of  the  widow,  the  hope  and  staff  of  her  age, 
receives  the  evening  salutation  of  maternal  tenderness, 
and  sinks  to  repose.  The  mother  who  has  just  enter- 
ed upon  that  tender  relation,  and  has  just  begun  to 
feel  its  pleasing  anxieties,  lays  her  sleeping  babe  upon 
her  bosom,  and  smiles  upon  him,  with  inexpressible 
delight.  Even  the  captive  in  the  dungeon  is  bound  in 
the  softer  fetters  of  sleep,  and  his  first  born  reposes  by 
his  side,  a  voluntary  prisoner  with  his  father.  Pharaoh 
yields  to  a  milder  dominion,  and  a  more  gentle  sceptre 
than  his  own;  and  hard  by  rests  his  eldest  hope.  All 
is  silent;  and  of  this  multitude  who  have  fallen  asleep 
without  apprehension,  how  many  shall  never  see  the 
morning  rise!  It  is  the  hour  of  midnight — and  in  an 
instant  sleep  is  chased  from  every  eye — a  general  groan 
reverberates  from  the  palace  to  the  prison — "there  is 
not  an  house  in  which  there  is  not  one  dead!" — From 
this  terrible  plague  the  family  of  every  Israelite  was 
exempted.  A  lamb,  the  type  of  HIM  who  was  to  be 
slain  in  the  fulness  of  time,  to  take  away  the  sin  of  the 
world,  was  crucified;  and  the  blood  sprinkled  on  the 
lintel  and  on  the  two  side  posts  of  the  door:  and  over 
all  the  houses,  upon  which  the  blood  was  seen,  the  de- 
stroying angel  passed,  and  the  inhabitants  remained 
unhurt. 

Before  the  morning  rose,  the  Egyptians  were  urgent 
with  the  people  to  depart,  and  Pharaoh  sent  them  forth 
w'.th  haste.  '-And  the  children  of  Israel  borrowed  ofti*> 

30 


234 

Egyptians,  jewels  of  silver,  and  jewels  of  gold,  and  rai- 
ment." We  notice  this  passage,  because  from  ittheoppos- 
ers  of  revelation,  have  been  pleased  to  deny  to  the  Israel- 
ites common  honesty.  We  wave  the  principle  upon 
which  they  might  be  justified,  in  contending  that  they 
had  amply  earned  all  that  they  borrowed  of  the  Egyp- 
tians, by  the  works  which  they  had  performed,  during 
their  bondage,  without  recompense;  and  shall  only 
submit  a  plain  criticism  on  the  Hebrew  word,  which 
our  translators  render, "/o  borrow"  It  is,  V?KtJW — de- 
rived from  StfCf — a  word  the  primary  sense  of  which  is, 
not/o/;07T0t0,but  to  ask  as  agtft;  as  may  be  seen  by  the 
following  passage,  where  the  same  word  is  used — "Ask 
of  me,  and  I  will  give  thee  the  heathen  for  thine  in- 
heritance, and  the  uttermost  part  of  the  earth  for  thy 
possession."*  Josephus,  in  his  ancient  history  of  the 
Jews,  puts  this  construction  upon  the  text,  and  says, 
"The  Egyptians  honored  them  with  pwsents,  partly  to 
induce  them  the  sooner  to  depart,  and  partly  on  ac- 
count of  their  intimacy  with  them."t 

The  plains  of  Rameses  near  Goshcn,  the  land  which 
Joseph  gave  to  Israel,  and  which  was  the  part  of 
Egypt  the  nearest  to  Canaan,  was  the  place  where 
they  assembled:  and  they  numbered  kwsix  hundred 
thousand  on  foot,  that  were  men,  beside  children.'* 
They  left  Egypt,  according  to  the  prediction,  at  the 

•Ps.  ii,  8-  Tli*-  phrnse  is,  nanxi  "2ST2  bxir — In  \]  c  inu -rpn <'i><on  n-hicli  I 
have  given  of  Sxcf,I  li:ive  not  i.  l.<.\v.  u  HI.  •<    •  •  •p.-ijilK  r  , 

v.  ho  ai1        n  c  tli.it  it  '"it  up  m    > 

umination  .>!' tl:c  ditii-rciit  senses  in  \\hich  the   M  -<•<!  m  \i,e  Biliir. 

in   pursuing-  \\liich   I    followed    •  ,     I    joiu»*l 

:«mor>£  iniiiinu'i  jea  requiring1  t!>  ,  ut   (our  \\li>'h 

tvoulubeftr  the  interpret ition  fo  iwri-i,-.:  •  .HIH!  01 
in  question — tUe  other,  ilie  dedication  <>t   ' 

service  uf  (ind.      The  remjUniftg  t^<>,  .'ire  in  '.]  Kin^s  i\,     i,     :.:.d    r^,    1 
vi,  5,  whe1  •    it  can  Irne  no  oilier  uic.-'nir,^  ',  l.;.n    to  i, 

\  Joseph  Ant'u).  j     I.  Tom.  I,  ,   j>-  f.7-  ii 

—•h^i    T-    : 

I 


235 

expiration  of  four  hundred  and  thirty  years,  computing 
from  the  time  when  the  promise  was  first  given  to 
Abraham.  And  they  carried  with  them  the  bones  of 
Joseph,  in  obedience  to  his  dying  requisition.* 

One  more  struggle  was  yet  to  be  made.  Notwith- 
standing the  evils  they  had  endured,  Pharaoh,  and  all 
;>t,  regretted  the  departure  of  Israel,  and  resolved 
to  pursue  after  them,  to  reduce  them  to  their  former 
state  of  servitude.  He  overtook  them  by  the  brink  of 
the  Red  Sea — and  in  the  moment  when  no  way  of 
escape  appeared,  and  they  had  given  up  all  for  lost,  at 
the  command  of  God  the  sea  was  divided,  and  they 
passed  through,  "as  upon  dry  land."  The  king  of 
Egypt  ana  his  army  followed  hard  after  them  into  the 
sea:  after  being  terrified  and  discomfited  the  whole 
night  by  the  power  of  God,  in  the  morning  they  wish- 
ed to  relinquish  the  pursuit.  But  the  Israelites  had 
now  reached  the  opposite  shore;  and  the  sea,  return- 
ing in  its  strength,  buried  the  king,  and  his  army,  un- 
der its  billows. 

Such  is  the  Mosaic  record  of  the  slavery  and  deiivr' 
erance  of  Israel,  upon  which  we  should  not  have  de- 
tained you  so  long,  were  it  not,  that  the  remaining 
part  of  our  subject  is  very  short,  and  we  entreat  your 
patient  attention  for  a  few  minutes,  to 

If.    THE     FOREIGN      TESTIMONIES      WHICH     REMAIN     TO 
THESE   FACTS.f 

Respecting  the  authority  of  that  portion  of  sacred 
history  over  which  we  have  now  passed,  let  the  fol- 
lowing particulars  be  observed: 

1  See  note  2,  of  this  Lecture,  at  the  end  o£the  volume. 
f  The  statement*   which  follow,  are  selected  principally  from  BlshoB 
Watson's  Theological  Tracts:  vol.  i,  p.  294,  Sec. 


236 

L  it  cannot  be  denied  that  there  did  exist  such  a 
person  as  Moses;  and  that  he  was  the  Jewish  legisla- 
tor. JUSTIN,  in  his  abridgement  of  Trogus  Pompeius,* 
mentions  his  beauty;  and  Longinus  cites  him  by  name, 
in  his  character  as  a  lawgiver,  and  quotes  the  begin- 
ning of  Genesis,  as  an  instance  of  the  true  sublime, 

2.  It  will  not  be  disputed-ihat  Moses  brought  the 
children  of  Israel  from  Egypt.  This  fact  is  not  only 
asserted  throughout  the  whole  of  the  sacred  writings, 
but  confirmed  by  the  combined  evidence  of  all  ancient 
historians. 

MANETHO  gives  an  account  of  the  time,  the  manner, 
and  many  of  the  principal  circumstances,  attending  this 
event;  as  we  learn  from  JOSEPIIUS  in  his  first  book 
against  Apion.f 

JUSTIN  mentions  their  departure,  but  assigns  a  false 
reason  for  it:  this,  however,  does  not  invalidate  his  tes- 
timony respecting  the  fact  in  question;  and  so  far  as 
his  authority  goes,  it  proves  that  the  departure  of  Israel 
from  Egypt  under  the  conduct  of  Moses,  was  acknowl- 
edged in  his  days.* 

TACITUS  records  the  same  event;  and  asserts  that 
the  Jews  were  expelled  Egypt  on  account  of  the  lep- 
rosy. This  conjecture,  for  it  is  no  more,  is  perfectly 
groundless:  because  it  is  well  known  that  thr  leprosy 
was  a  common  distemper  among  the  Egyptians  and 
for  this  reason,  the  law  of  Moses  calls  the  leprosy  the 
disease  of  Egypt,  and  banishes  lepers  from  the  congre- 
gation. 

f    M: 

liwi:  '  •   \\lifnrc  i.  iiMiN  drawn,  I. 

iruili  will  ,  ':s- 


23? 

PLINV  confirms  this  assertion,  by  speaking  of  the 
leprosy  (which  he  calls  Elephantiasis)  as  common 
to  the  Egyptians.  They  might  possibly  communicate 
it  to  the  Israelites:  but  it  is  improbable  that  they  should 
expel  them  for  a  distemper  which  they  themselves  im- 
parted to  them.  But 

TROGJUS  PCMPI-IUS  says  that  the  magicians  caused 
Moses  and  the  Israelites  to  be  expelled,  because  they 
themselves  were  afflicted  with  a  kind  of  murrain  or 
leprosy,  and  were  afraid  lest  it  should  spread  through- 
out the  land:  which  account  probably  refers  to  the 
plague  of  boils,  which  was  brought  upon  all  Egypt, 
because  Pharaoh  refused  to  let  the  people  go.*  Still 
observe — whatever  reasons  these  heathen  writers  give 
for  the  departure  of  the  Israelites  from  Egypt,  they  all 
agree  in  confirming  the  fact,  that  the  descendants  of 
Abraham  were  enslaved  in  Egypt,  and  that  they 
departed  out  of  it  under  the  conduct  of  Moses. 

3.  The  Jews  could  not  have  asserted  these  miracles, 
and  the  deliverance  of  their  fathers,  supposing  no  such 
miracles  to  have  been  wrought,  and  no  such  deliver- 
ance to  have  been  effected,  without  exposing  them- 
selves to  contempt,  and  their  fid  ion  to  detection,  among 
all  the  nations  by  which  they  were  subdued,  alter  the 
death  of  Moses  and  Joshua.  Whereas,  it  does  not 
appear  that  their  records  were  disputed:  and  the  writer 
of  the  first  book  of  Samuel,  (who  was  probably  Sam- 
uel himself;  or  some  contemporary,  so  far  as  his  his- 
tory is  concerned  in  it,)  represents  the  Philistines  as 
saying,  when  the  ark  of  God  came  into  the  camp, 
"Woe  unto  us!  who  shall  deliver  us  cut  of  the  hands  of 
these  mighty  Gods?  These  are  the  Gods  that  smotq 

*  Justin  vit  supra-  See  note  3.  of  1  bis  Lecture,  at  the  end  of  the  volum  • 


the  Egyptians  with  all  the  plagues  in  the  wilderness:" 
evidently  an  imperfect  tradition  of  these  facts,  as  they 
confound  the  transactions  of  Egypt,  and  those  of  the 
wilderness,  together.  Now  what  purpose  could  it  an- 
swer to  put  into  the  mouth  of  the  Philistines,  such  a 
declaration,  if  they  did  not  really  utter  it,  except  to 
expose  the  historian  to  contempt?  as,  at  the  time,  any- 
one was  able  to  contradict  it,  if  it  were  not  true.  But 
it  is  evident  that  the  remembrance  of  these  miracles 
was  not  confined  to  Egypt:  and  that  other  lands  had 
heard  of  them,  and  believed  them. 

4.  NUMENIUS,  a  Pythagorean  philosopher,  relates 
ihat  Jannes  and  Jambres  (as  is  recorded  also  in  the 
New  Testament)   were  chosen  by  the  Egyptians,  to 
oppose  Moses,  and  "to  hinder  the  effects  of  his  mira- 
cles and  prayers,  which  had  brought  down   many 
grievous  plagues  upon  Egypt,  just  about  the  time  of 
the  Jews'  banishment  from  that  country." 

5.  The  Jews  themselves,  upon  whom  Moses  could 
not  have  imposed  in  the  first  instance,  kept  in  remem- 
brance all  the  principal  facts  which   we  nave  recited 
this  night,  by  their  rites;  which  rites  received  birth 
with  the  events  themselves,  and  were  kept  up  till  the 
coming  of  Christ;  and  some  of  them,  connected  in- 
separably with  the  departure  from  Egypt,  are  celebra- 
ted to  this  hour  among  the  Jews:  such  are  the  pass, 
over,  and  the  redemption  of  the  fust  born. 

0.  In  a  most  able  work,  entitled  "reflections  upon 
the  Books  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  to  establish  the 
Truth  of  the  Christian  Ucligion,"  a  custom  of  the 
ptians  is  mentioned,  which  continued  till  after 
Jesus  Christ:  '-They  used  to  mark  with  red,  their 
sheep,  their  trees,  their  houses,  and  their  lands,  the  day 
before  the  passovcr;  as  may  be  seen  in 


239 

which  custom  could  proceed  from  no  other  cause, 
than  from  the  tear  of  the  Egyptians  lest  the  same- 
plague  and  mortality  should  come  upon  then),  which 
was  inflicted  upon  their  forefathers,  and  from  t  he  hope 
of  preventing  it,  by  the  use  of  a  talisman,  sumewhat 
resembling  the  sprinkling  of  the  blood  of  the  paschal 
lamb  on  the  doors  of  the  Israelites,  which  was  the 
method  prescribed  to  Moses,  for  the  deliverance  of  hi** 
people  from  that  great  plague*." 

Lastly,  These  miracles  were  confirmed  by  succeed- 
ing ones  equally  important,  and  equally  authenticated. 
Among  others — the  pillar  of  fire  and  cloud,  which 
preceded  the  Israelites,  and  which  was  so  serviceable 
to  them,  and  so  injurious  to  Pharaoh,  during  their 
passage  through  the  Red  Sea,  is  mentioned  by  EUSE- 
BIUS.  who  says,  "that  the  remembrance  of  it  was  pre- 
served, to  his  time,  at  Memphis." — DIODORUS  SICULUS 
also,  when  he  is  recording  the  history  of  the  Troglo- 
dytes, mentions  a  tradition,  among  the  native  inhabit- 
ants of  the  spot,  of  the  division  of  the  Red  Seaf. 

Such  was  the  slavery  and  the  deliverance  of  Israel, 
according  to  Moses:  such  are  the  reasons  upon  which 
we  present  this  account  to  you  as  strictly  true;  and 
such  are  the  testimonies  which  we  have -been  able  to 
select  from  other  ancient  historians;  and  we  think  we 
may  venture  to  affirm,  that  God  has  not  left  his  word 
without  a  witness.  It  is  easy  for  infidelity  to  imagine, 

*  This  work  was  composed  by  P.  AHix,  a  French  refugee:  it  was 
published  in  London  in  1688:  this  extract  is  in  chap.  iii.  on  the  four  fas: 
hooks  of  Moses:  the  general  arguments  used  above  will  be  found  in  thj* 
work,  which  is  preserved  in  Bishop  Watson's  Theological  Tracts.  VuS.  ir 
IT.  295. 

f   Diud.  Sic.  lib.  iii.  p.  122.     This  tradition  is  noticed  also  in  Biucc's 
Travels,  Vol.  II. p.  136,  137,  new  8vo-  edition.    For  the  oritriml  f: 
<ee  note  4,  of  this  Lecture  at  the  end  of  the  volume. 


£40 

that   such  and  such  things  are  impositions  now:   the 
question  is,  how  were  they  imposed  upon  mankind  at 
the  timt®  And  by  what  means,  supposing  they  were 
impositions,  did  they  obtain  credit  in  the  world?  Why 
have  they  not  been  detected  and  overthrown,  with 
other  impositions?  How  is  it  that  these  fables   have 
survived  the  attacks  of  time,  when  so  many  authentic 
histories  have  sunk  under  them?  In  short,  it  is  much 
easier  for  skepticism  to  raise  objections  against  revela- 
tion, than   to  remove  the   difficulties  which   clog  its 
own  system.     When  you  consider  the  distant  period 
in  which  these  events  took  place:  the  darkness  and 
idolatry  of  the  heathen  world:  the  separation  of  the 
Jews  from  all  other  nations:  the  difiiculties  of  a  lan- 
guage no  longer  in  use:  the  mere  fragments  of  heathen 
historians  which  have  come  down  to  us — the  wonder 
is  not,  that  obscurity  should  rest  upon  the  evidences 
of  the  Mosaic  account  of  things  so  remote,  but  that 
such  decisive  and  numerous  testimonies  of  other  wri- 
ters should  remain.     It  becomes  skepticism  to  urge  its 
objections  against  the  Bible  with  caution,  and  to  op- 
pose it  with  decency.    The  testimonies  which  we  have 
produced  deserve,  at  least,  some  small  regard,  and  are 
not  to  be  overthrown  by  ridicule,  by  witticisms,  by  the 
sneer  which  distorts  the  countenance,  the  contempt 
which  swells  upon  the  lip,  or  the  scorn  which  looks 
from  the  eye,  of  a  deist.     We  feel  no  apprehensions 
in  submitting  this  volume  to  the  attacks  of  infidelity. 
These  writings  have  stood  too  many  ages,  to  excite  any 
alarm  in  oui  I,  from  assaults  such  as  those  which 

are  levelled  against  them  in  the  present  day.     Let  its 
adversaries  produce  a  better  system:  let  them  \r\\ 
something  more  consolatory  to  the  heart,  and  more 
adapted  to  human  Mini's,  and  human  expoctali 


241 

living  and  dying:  let  them  overturn  the  evidences 
which  have  resisted  the  devastations  of  so  many  cen- 
turies: let  them  prove  it  useless  and  injurious:  and 
then  shall  our  hearts  begin  "to  tremble  for  the  ark  of 
God." — Till  then,  we  adhere,  with  perfect  cheerful- 
ness, to  a  just  and  acknowledged  principle,  and  calm- 
ly abide  all  its  consequences:  " If  this  counsel,  or  this 
work,  be  of  men,  it  will  come  to  nought:  but  if  it  be 
of  God,  ye  cannot  overthrow  it!" 


LECTURE  IX. 

THE  JOURNEY  OF  ISRAEL  IN  THE  WILDERNESS: 
THEIR  ESTABLISHMENT  IN  CANAAN;  AND  THE 
CIRCUMSTANCES  ATTENDING  THESE  EVENTS. 

JOSHUA  XXIV,  2 — 13. 

And  Joshua  said  unto  all  the  people,  Thus  saith  the 
Lord  God  of  Israel,  Your  fathers  dwelt  on  the  oth- 
er side  of  the  flood  in  old  time,  even  Terah,  the  fa- 
ther of  Abraham,  and  thefather  ofNachor:  andthey 
served  other  Gods.  And  I  took  your  father  Abra- 
ham from  the  other  side  of  the  flood,  and  led  him 
throughout  all  the  land  of  Canaan,  and  midtipli- 
ed  his  seed,  and  gave  him  Isaac.  And  I  gave  unto 
Isaac,  Jacob  and  Esau:  and  I  gave  unto  Esau 
Mount  Seir,  to  possess  it;  but  Jacob  and  his  chil- 
dren 'went  down  into  Egypt.  I  sent  Moses  also 
and  Aaron,  and  I  plagued  Egypt,  according  to  that 
which  I  did  among  them:  and  afterward  I  brought 
you  out.  And  I  brought  your  fathers  out  of  Egypt: 
and  ye  came  unfo  the  sea;  and  the  Egyptians  pur- 
sued after  your  fathers  with  chariots  and  horsemen 
unto  the  Red  Sea.  And  when  they  cried  unto  the 
Lord,  he  put  darkness  between  you  and  the  Egyp- 
tians, and  brought  the  sea  lipon  them,  and  covered 
them;  and  your  eyes  have  seen  what  I  have  done  in 
Egypf:  and  yc  dwelt  hit  lie  wilderness  a  long  sea- 
son. And  I  brought  you  into  the  land  of  the  Am- 
firites,  which  dwelt  on  the  other  side  Jordan;  and 
fhctj  fought  with  you:  and  f  gave  them  into  your 
hand,  that  ye  might  possesstheir  land;  and  I  destroy- 


243 

cd  them  from  before  you.  Then  Balak  the  son  of 
Zippor,  king  of  Moab,  arose  and  warred  against 
Israel,  and  sent  and  called  Balaam  the  son  ofBeor 
to  curse  you:  But  I  would  not  hearken  unto  Balaam; 
therefore  he  blessed  you  still:  So  I  delivered  you  out 
of  his  hand.  And  ye  went  over  Jordan,  and  came 
unto  Jericho  and  the  men  ofJoricho  brought  against 
you,  the  Amoi^ites,  and  the  Perizzites,  and  the  Ca- 
naanites,  and  the  Hittites,  and  the  Girgashites,  the 
Hivites,  and  the  Jebusites;  and  1  delivered  them  into 
your  hand.  And  I  sent  the  hornet  before  you, 
which  drave  them  out  from  before  you7  even  the  two 
kings  of  the  Amorites;  but  not  with  thy  sword,  nor 
with  thy  bow.  And  I  have  given  you  a  land  for 
which  ye  did  not  labor,  and  cities  which  ye  built  not> 
and  ye  dwell  in  them;  of  the  vineyards  and  oliv$& 
yards  which  ye  planted  not,  do  ye  eat! 

WE  are  indebted  to  God  himself,  for  all  the  infor- 
mation which  we  possess,  in  relation  to  either  his  na- 
ture or  his  operations.  He  furnishes  the  medium 
through  which  he  is  seen  in  the  visible  creation,  in  the 
arrangements  of  Providence,  in  the  scheme  of  redemp- 
tion: and  all  that  we  are  able  to  comprehend  of  "life 
and  immortality,"  is  "brought  to  light  by  the  gospel." 
The  human  mind  requires  a  medium  through  which 
it  may  discern  God,  as  the  eye  requires  a  medium 
through  which  it  may  see.  As  that  medium  to  the 
eye  is  light,  so  is  the  medium  of  the  spirit,  illumina- 
tion. It  is  in  vain  that  creation  subsists  around  me, 
except  I  have  an  organ  of  vision.  To  the  blind  man 
it  is  annihilated.  The  works  of  God  exist,  but  not  to 
him:  he  is  insensible  of  their  beauties,  he  never  was 
permitted  to  admire  their  symmetry.  And  it  is  in 


244 

vain  that  we  possess  an  organ  of  vision,  unless  some 
medium  be  furnished  through  which  it  may  operate. 
*  I  ascend  the  mountain  at  midnight,  and  look  from  its 
summit.  The  landscape  around  me  is  the  same  as  at 
mid- day,  and  the  organ  of  vision  is  the  same:  but 
light,  the  medium  through  which  the  eye  sees,  is  want- 
ing; and  I  look  for  the  river,  for  the  meadow,  for  the 
mansion,  for  the  hill,  for  all  the  beauties  of  the  scene- 
ry, in  vain — I  am  presented  with  c^an  universal  blank." 
It  is  in  vain  that,  as  an  intelligent  creature,  I  am  sur- 
rounded by  the  works  of  God,  and  am  furnished  with 
reasoning 'powers,  with  a  capacity  formed  to  contem- 
plate, to  examine,  and  to  admire  them,  unless  I  am 
furnished  also  with  some  medium  through  which  they 
may  be  seen.  Revelation  is  that  medium.  Were  the 
eye  of  reason  quenched  in  the  spirit,  the  mind  would 
be  in  that  state  of  incapacity  to  discern  the  invisible 
God,  as  is  the  man  born  blind  to  examine  his  works. 
And  were  the  light  of  revelation  extinguished,  although 
the  man  were  in  full  possession  of  his  intellectual  pow- 
ers, he  would  resemble  the  person  on  the  summit  oi' 
the  mountain  at  midnight,  in  vain  attempting  to  ex- 
plore the  landscape:  he  would  possess  the  organ,  but 
be  destitute  of  the  medium;  he  would  have  the  ei/e, 
but  not  the  light.  And,  for  this  reason,  the.  apostle 
repreH'.nU  i:,e  ir-athnis,  as  ufeeling  after,  if  haply 
;  find  God,  although  he  was  not  far  from 
everj  ,  >f  them:"  as  men  involved  in  perfect  dark- 
neb:',  uitiuH  >ie  organ  of  vision,  are  com- 
pelled lo /er/  i  >ject  of  their  pursuit,  even  when 
th;:  t  is  at  thn;  side,  or  before  their  face. 

It  will  he  readily  i  ledgcd,  that  through  the 

medium  of  revelation  alone,  we  can  form  any  concep- 
tion of  things  which  are  "not  seen  as  yet."     We  can 


245 

know  nothing,  we  can  anticipate  nothing  of  futurity, 
but  as  revealed  religion  removes  the  curtain,  and  un- 
veils a  portion  of  invisible  objects.  But  we  will  \ 
ture  to  assert,  that  the  visible  creation  itself  is  not  be- 
held to  perfection,  but  through  the  medium  of  revela- 
tion. "The  heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God,  and 
the  firmament  sheweth  his  handy  work:"  butthe  man 
who  has  never  received  this  divine  medium,  discerns 
not  that  glory.  "Day  unto  day  uttereth  speech,  night 
unto  night  sheweth  knowledge:"  "There  is  no  speech 
nor  language,  where  their  voice  is  not  heard" — but  he 
understands  not  their  testimony.  For  this  reason, 
many  have  beheld  their  beauties,  and  have  heard  their 
voice,  who  have  not  acknowledged  the  existence  of 
God;  and,  from  these  alone,  none  have  understood 
his  perfections.  And  if  revelation  be  necessary  to  the 
developement  of  creation,  how  much  more  is  it  neces- 
sary to  unfold  the  mysteries  of  Providence!  After  all, 
but  little  is  at  present  discovered.  Our  curiosity  is 
repressed,  and  our  impatience  controlled,  by  the  de- 
claration, "what  I  do,  thou  knowest  not  now,  but 
thou  shalt  know  hereafter."  Yet  we  are  permitted, 
sometimes  through  this  medium,  to  comprehend  a  part 
of  the  scheme,  that  we  may  form  some  conception  of 
the  magnificence  of  the  whole.  God  decyphers  a  lit- 
tle of  his  own  mysterious  handwriting,  to  prove  his 
perfect  ability  to  construe  the  entire  volume.  He 
makes  known  a  portion  of  his  purposes,  as  a  pledge; 
that  he  will,  hereafter,  fulfil  his  engagement  to  shew 
the  harmony,  the  propriety,  and  the  wisdom  of  all. 
The  scripture  fact  to  be  illustrated  this  night,  is, 

THE  JOURNEY  OF  ISRAEL  IN  THE  WILDERNESS;  THEIR 
ESTABLISHMENT  IN  CANAAN;  AND  THE  CIRCUMSTAN- 
CES ATTENDING  THESE  EVENTS. 


246 

This  subject  will  completely  confirm  the  preceding 
observations;  for  we  shail  see,  in  some  instances,  the 
wisdom  and  harmony  of  Providence,  while  so  deep 
obscurity  rests  upon  others,  as  to  compel  us  to  ac- 
knowledge, that  usecret  tilings  belong  to  God."  Our 
Lecture  must  comprehend  more  or  less  of  that  history 
comprised  in  the  last  four  books  of  Moses,  from  the 
fifteenth  chapter  of  Exodus,  to  the  twenty-fourth  chap- 
ter of  Joshua  inclusive,  embracing  a  period  of  about 
sixty-four  years.  We  shall  adopt  in  the  present  in- 
stance, our  general  mode  of  discussion,  which  is,  to 
consider  these  events,  with  their  concomitant  circum- 
stances, as  they  are  related  in  the  scriptures:  to  set 
be  fore  you  such  foreign  testimonies  as  appear  calculated 
to  elucidate  and  to  confirm  the  scriptural  narration;  and 
to  attempt  an  answer  to  some  objection  which  skepti- 
cism has  raised  against  this  part  of  the  sacred  records. 

I.  WE  SHALL  CONSIDER  THESE  EVENTS.  WITH  THEIR 
CONCOMITANT  CIRCUMSTANCES,  AS  THEY  ARE  RE- 
LATED IN  THE  SCRIPTURES. 

Our  object,  at  present,  is  to  produce  an  epitome  of 
the  narrative  to  be  considered,  is  as  brief  a  form  as  pos- 
sible; and  for  a  more  complete  history  of  the  wander- 
ings and  establishment  of  these  singularly  preserved 
people,  we  must  refer  you.  to  the  Bible  itself,  whose 
unadorned,  and  faithful  record,  may  be  consulted 
at  your  leisure. 

In  tracing  the  Israelites  through  all  their  journey, 
and  regarding  them  as  rye  uitnc^o  of  the  wonders 
performed  for  their  preservation. ur  shall  find  theirchar- 
acter  to  be  precisely  such  as  David  represented  it,  when 
he  said,  "they  sang  his  praises,  but  they  soon  format  his 
works!"  When  they  beheld  the  Egyptians  dead  upon 


247 

the  sea  shore,  under  a  grateful  impression  of  the  mir 
aculous  deliverance  wrought  on  their  behalf,  they  join- 
ed in  the  sublime  anthem  of  their  leader:  and  if  we  were 
to  form  our  judgment  upon  the  appearance  then  pre- 
sented of  attachment  to  the  God  who  fought  for  them, 
we  should  conclude  that  his  goodness  could  never  be 
obliterated  from  their  remembrance,  and  that  their 
thankfulness  could  never  by  any  dangers  be  extinguish- 
ed. Scarcely,  however,  had  three  days  elapsed,  before 
they  murmured  because  the  waters  of  Marah  were  bit- 
er: and  no  sooner  was  this  evil  remedied,  than  their 
provisions  failed,  and  their  complaints  were  renew- 
ed with  indecent  violence.  With  indulgent  kind- 
ness, the  Lord  supplied  their  necessities,  by  sending, 
with  the  dew  of  the  morning,  a  substance  bearing 
some  resemblance  to  a  small  pearl,  which  answer- 
ed the  purpose  of  bread,  and  which,  not  knowing 
by  what  name  to  call  it,  they  termed  MANNA — a 
word  implying,  "what  is  it?" — in  the  evneing  a  pro- 
digious flock  of  quails  came  up,  and  covered  the 
camp.  This  event  took  place  about  the  middle  of 
April,  at  which  period  these  birds  are  observed  to 
cross  the  Red  Sea  in  vast  numbers.  The  miracle 
therefore  consisted,  not  so  much  in  the  immense 
multitudes  which  fell  in  the  camp  of  Israel,  as  in 
the  direction  of  them  thither,  precisely  at  the  time 
when  the  Israelites  needed  them,  and  on  the  very 
evening  in  which  God  had,  by  the  naouth  of  Moses, 
promised  to  send  them.* 

Upon  receiving  this  miraculous  assistance,  they  con- 
tinued their  journey;  and  immediately  afterwards, 
the  failure  of  water  drew  from  them  fresh  murmurings 
at  the  perils  of  their  situation,  and  new  reproaches  at 

*See  Anc.  Univ.  Hist.  Vol.  ii.  b.  i.  chap,  7.  note  Q,.  p-  592. 


248 

their  inoffensive  and  skilful  general.  Moses  smote  a 
rock,  from  which  issued  a  stream  to  supply  their  ne- 
cessities. We  must  observe  once  for  all,  that  it  is  no 
part  of  our  business  to  enter  into  a  defence  of  the  mir- 
acles which  it  may  be  necessary  to  notice  in  this 
course  of  Lectures,  or  to  answer  the  objections  which 
have  been  raised  against  them:  our  engagement  is  sim- 
ply to  state  the  events  as  they  are  recorded,  as  so  ma- 
ny matters  of  fact,  and  to  produce  such  confirmations 
of  them,  as  such,  as  the  fragments  of  ancient  histori- 
ans furnish.  It  may  be  proper  also  to  remark,  in  or- 
der to  preserve  distinctness  of  apprehension  in  pursuing 
this  narrative,  that  Moses  smote  another  rock  upon  a 
similar  occasion — and  that  these  were  two  distinct 
events.  The  first  took  place  at  Rephidim,  in  their 
eleventh  station:*  the  second  in  the  desert  of  Sin,  in 
their  thirty-third  station. t  The  one  happened,  in  the 
first  year  of  their  departure  from  Egypt;  the  other,  in 
the  fortieth.  The  former  was  smitten  by  the  rod  of 
Moses,  the  instrument  of  the  wonders  performed  in 
Egypt:  the  latter,  by  the  rod  of  Aaron,  which  budded 
to  determine  the  priesthood.  The  one  took  place  be- 
fore the  erection  of  the  tabernacle;  and  the  other,  af- 
ter it.  This,  was  performed  with  calmness:  £/ictf,was 
smitten  in  anger;  and  the  conduct  of  Moses  so  dis- 
pleased the  Lord,  that  it  was  the  cause  of  his  prohibi- 
tion from  entering  the  land  of  Canaan.  J  Having 
made  these  remarks,  we  shall  be  in  no  danger  of  con- 
founding these  two,  distinct  events. 

Before  they  removed  from  this  station,  they  were 
compelled  to  fight  with  the  Amalekites.  Joshua 
went  out  to  battle  at  the  head  of  the  army:  Moses  as- 

•E\  .  6.  f  Numb,  xx,  11. 

*See  Anc.  Univ.    Hist.  v>l.  ii,  cliap.  7  note  T.  p.  596,  597- 


249 

cendcd  the  top  of  the  hill,  with  the  rod  of  God  in  his 
hand,  prohably  to  intercede  for  the  interposition  of 
heaven. — Israel  prevailed  so  long  as  his  hanus  were 
elevated:  but  when  through  weariness  he  suffered 
them  to  drop,  victory  leaned  to  the  side  of  Amalek. 
Aaron  and  Hur  supported  his  arms  till  the  sun  went 
down,  and  Amalek  was  subdued.  How  lovely  is  fra- 
ternal unity!  Even  Moses  needed  assistance;  and  who 
can  pass  through  life  without  it?  Let  us  learn,  that 
our  burdens  are  lightened,  our  peace  promoted,  and 
our  success  ensured,  by  mutual  kindness,  and  by  mu- 
tual attention.  And  who  can  read  this  singularly 
beautiful  nafration,  without  being  reminded  of  Jesus 
our  Mediator,  through  whose  intercession,  and  the 
lifting  up  of  his  hands,  we  have  freedom  of  access  to 
God  now,  and  shall  finally  be  made  more  than  con- 
querors, over  all  our  enemies? 

This  victory  opened  the  way  to  Sinai,  and  with  the 
most  awful  emotions  we  approach  the  sacred  moun- 
tain! Gathering  around  its  foot,  the  tribes  of  Israel 
present  themselves  before  the  eternal  Lawgiver.  The 
trumpet  has  sounded  loud,  and  long,  to  call  their  lead- 
er into  the  thick  darkness:  and  see,  with  a  palpitating 
heart,  he  prepares  to  obey  the  summons!  The  thunder 
rolls  peal  upon  peal  to  announce  the  descent  of  the 
Deity.  With  frequent,  and  vivid  flashes,  the  light- 
ning cleaves  the  cloud,  and  darts  across  the  dreadful 
obscurity.  Sinai  trembles  to  its  base,  and  "a  great  and 
strong  wind"  rushes  through  the  desert.  Every  time 
the  trumpet  sounds,  it  increases  in  loudness:  and 
as  it  sounds  long,  the  signal  thrills  through  every  heart, 
and  fear  blanches  every  countenance.  The  holy  hill 
is  fenced:  and  the  command  of  God  is,  "Charge  the 
people,  lest  they  break  through  unto  the  Lord  to  gaze, 
32 


250 

and  many  of  them  perish."  As  with  one  voice,  the 
whole  curnp  rang  with  their  supplications  to  Moses — 
'Speak  thou  with  us,  and  we  will  hear:  but  let  not 
God  speak  with  us,  lest  we  die!" — Such  were  the  ter- 
rors of  the  former  dispensation,  and  such  the  stern 
command  which  forbade  too  near  an  approach  to  God. 
But  far  other  sounds  are  heard  from  yonder  mount  of 
peace.  The  frame  of  nature  is  indeed  convulsed% 
darkness  extends  her  mantle  over  the  sky,  the  sun 
withdraws  his  shining,  and  the  clouds  weep  some 
drops  of  pity:  but  these  are  marks  of  sympathy,  not 
indications  of  wrath.  Yonder  sufferer  blesses  with  his 
dying  lips,  compassion  floats  in  his  dim  and  languid 
eyes,  and  the  language  of  peace  issues  from  his  tongue, 
as  it  cleaves  to  the  roof  of  his  mouth.  "!T  is  FINISH- 
ED"— rolls  on  the  air,  with  inexpressible  softness. 
The  heart  is  melted  by  this  scene,  but  not  terrified. 
Contrition  lays  her  gentle  hand  upon  the  obdurate  spir- 
it. The  unpitying  eye  forgets  its  ferocity,  and  learns  to 
weep.  No  command  thunders,  " whosoever  toucheth 
the  mount,  shall  surely  be  put  to  death:"  but  a  voice 
like  a  gale  of  a  summer's  evening  whispers,  "Come 
up  hither,  for  yet  there  is  room!" 

In  receiving  the  law  from  the  hand  of  heaven, 
Moses  was  forty  days  absent  on  the  mount.  A  por- 
tion of  this  time,  the  Israelites  patiently  waited:  but 
at  length,  forgetting  the  recent  terrors  with  which  the. 
near  approach  of  the  Deity  had  filled  their  bosoms, 
and  impatient  of  delay,  they  compelled  Aaron,  by 
their  importunity  and  violence,  to  form  a  golden  calf; 
:tnd  to  this  i(](-l  they  bowed  down  as  unto  their  God. 
-We  conceive  that  they  borrowed  this  image  from 
the  r.j^VMii  mythology:  for  without  it,  a  calf,  one 
should  buj)j>:>s.\  would  have  been  the.  last  symbol  they 


£51 

would  have  chosen,  as  a  representation  of  the  Deii%> 
As  the  term  "ca//'"    is  by  no  means  completely  defi- 
nite, it  is  highly  probable,  that  it  was  an  exact  resem- 
blance of  one  of  the  Egyptian  idols.     The  Egyptian 
Isis  had  the  face  of  a  calf,  with  the  form  of  a  man 
from  the  neck  downwards.     The  Egyptian  Apis  was 
altogether  the  similitude  of  a  calf.     There  has  been 
one   objection  raised  against  this  position;  which  is, 
that  the  idolatry  of  Israel  was  anterior  to  the  worship 
of  these  idols,  or  of  animal  resemblances  in  Egypt:  but 
we  think  this  assertion  hard  to  be  proved.     Idols,  and 
image  worship,  were  in  existence  in  those  days,  or  the 
Israelites  had  not  dreamt  of  them;    and  Egypt,  the 
mother  of  hieroglyphics,  would  hardly  be  the  last  to 
embrace  the  system  of  idolatry.     Admitting  our  posi- 
tion, which  will  at  once  account  for  the  symbol  of  the 
Deity  chosen  by  the  Israelites,  we  are  furnished  with 
further  evidences  of  the  facts — that  they  actually  re- 
sided in  Egypt,  from  a  knowledge  of  their  customs — 
and  that  they  had  recently  departed  thence,  from  the 
attachment,  and  preference,  shewn  to  the  objects  of 
their  worship. 

From  this  event,  follow  a  succession  of  rebellions  in 
Various  shapes,  and  appointments  of  divers  ceremo- 
nies. The  next  point  of  importance  upon  which  we 
fix,  is  the  sending  of  twelve  men  as  spies  to  view  the 
promised  land.  Ten  of  these  messengers  brought  back 
an  evil  report;  and  Joshua,  and  Caleb,  alone  attempt- 
ed, by  a  just  and  manly  relation,  to  encourage  the 
hearts,  and  to  strengthen  the  hands,  of  the  people. 
Such,  however,  was  their  discontent,  that  they  resolv- 
ed to  return  to  their  bondage  in  Egypt;  and  were  ac- 
tually consulting  whom  to  choose  as  a  leader,  when 
the  uproar  was  suppressed,  by  the  appearance  of  the 


25-2 

glory  of  the  Lord  resting  upon  the  tabernacle.  The 
punishment  inflicted  upon  their  unbelief  and  folly,  was 
justly  severe:  all  above  twenty  years  of  age  were  ex- 
cluded the  land,  Joshua  and  Caleb  excepted:  they 
were  sentenced  to  forty  years  wandering  in  the  wil- 
derness, till  that  generation  should  fall  into  the  dust; 
and  the  ten  spies,  who  brought  the  false  report,  were 
struck  with  instantaneous  death.  A  great  number  of 
the  people  afterwards  fell  in  the  ill-timed  battle  of  the 
Amalekites,  which  God  had  expressly  prohibited. 

To  this  affecting  circumstance  succeeded  the  rebel- 
lion of  Korah,  and  the  confirmation  of  Aaron's  priest- 
hood— the  strife  at  Meribah — the  setting  up  of  the  bra- 
zen serpent,  that  striking  type  of  Christ — the  defeat  of 
Sihon  and  Og — the  beautiful  and  eloquent  prophecies 
of  Balaam — the  idolatry  of  Israel  with  the  Moabites, 
and  their  punishment,  with  the  slaughter  of  Balaam, 
and  of  the  five  kings  of  Midian.  This  conducts  us  to 
the  death  of  Moses.  After  having  numbered  the  peo- 
ple, ordered  the  distribution  of  the  promised  land,  and 
appointed  Joshua  his  successor,  in  the  sight  of  all  Is- 
rael, he  ascended  the  mountain,  which  he  descended 
no  more.  He  saw  the  promised  land,  he  reviewed  his 
journey  in  the  wilderness,  and  he  resigned  his  spirit 
"to  God  who  gave  it." 

We  cannot  take  leave  of  Moses,  without  paying 
one  small  tribute  of  respect  to  his  character,  and  to  his 
conduct.  From  the  sacred  records,  we  learn  that  he 
was  beautiful  in  his  person,  and  amiable  in  his  dispo- 
sition. He  received  a  polished  education,  and  on  all 
occasions  evinced  true  greatness  of  mind.  Consider 
him  as  a  prophet  or  as  a  general,  as  a  shepherd  or  as 
a  monarch,  as  a  husband  or  as  a  lather,  as  a  man  or 
as  as-ainf,  hi-  is  equally  estimable,  and  equally  inter- 


esting.  A  greater  than  Moses  did  not  appear  upon 
the  earth,  till  "the  Word  was  made  flesh,  and  dwelt 
among  us;  and  we  beheld  his  glory,  the  glory  as  ^f 
the  only- begotten  of  the  Father,  full  of  grace  and 
truth."  His  death,  as  well  as  his  life,  breathes  instruc 
lion.  It  shews  us  the  danger  of  contending  with 
God,  and  the  bitterness  of  disappointment,  when  an 
object  ardently  desired  is  seen,  but  not  permitted  to 
be  enjoyed.  It  is  an  emblem  of  the  death  of  a  Chris- 
tian, who,  in  his  last  moments,  in  the  same  way,  casts 
his  eyes  over  the  past  and  the  future.  In  one  word, 
living  and  dying,  he  was  a  most  inestimable  charac- 
ter: and  well  did  he  merit  the  tears,  which  "the  many 
thousands  of  Israel"  shed  to  his  memory. 

The  tents  of  Israel  were  pitched  at  Shittim,  during 
the  days  of  mourning  for  Moses:  and,  encamped  on 
the  verge  of  Jordan,  the  people  expected  the  divine 
signal  for  passing  that  river.*  Nor  could  any  thing 
less  than  a  divine  command  have  encouraged  Joshua 
and  the  Israelites  to  proceed.  All  circumstances  con- 
sidered, we  think  it  would  have  been  a  greater  mira- 
cle, had  they  encountered  the  dangers  which  they 
were  conscious  were  before  them,  'without  a  divine 
communication,  than  the  admission  of  the  fact  assert- 
ed in  the  scriptures,  that  they  knew  themselves  acting 
under  the  authority  and  support  of  a  divine  commis- 
sion, supposes.  Joshua  was  ninety-three  years  of  age. 
He  was  indeed  at  the  head  of  six  hundred  thousand 
fighting  men:  but  his  army  was  also  encumbered  with 
women,  children,  servants,  cattle,  and  all  the  necessa- 
ries for  travelling.  The  nations  who  opposed  him  were 
numerous,  warlike,  of  gigantic  stature  and  strength: 

*  For  the  succeeding-  statements,  see  the  book  of  Joshua.  See  also 
AHC-  Univ.  Hist.  Vol.  III.  b.  i.  chap.  7. 


254 

their  towns  fortified  by  nature,  and  by  art:  their  forces 
concentrated,  and  their  interests  united  by  alliances: 
this  union  was  strengthened  by  alarm:  they  had  every 
thing  to  lose,  and  with  the  most  determined  and  steady 
courage,  they  resolved  to  repel  the  invader?. 

After  the  spies  sent  by  Joshua  to  inspect  the  coun- 
try had  returned  in  peace,  preparations  were  made  for 
passing  the  river  Jordan.  This  hazardous  undertak- 
ing, which  was  to  cast  the  die,  and  to  commence  the 
conflict  with  the  Canaanites,  was  arranged  under  the 
immediate  direction  of  Heaven.  The  people  sancti- 
fied themselves,  and  the  priests  bearing-  the  ark  of  God 
opened  the  procession.  Each  tribe  observed  the  same 
order  as  they  had  done  in  their  marches.  The  enter- 
prise  commenced  on  a  day  which  answers  to  the  thir- 
tieth of  our  April,  the  day  on  which  the  paschal  lamb 
was  selected  and  separated.  At  this  time  of  the  year, 
Jordan  usually  overflowed  its  banks,  from  the  melting 
of  the  snows  of  Lebanon,  and  of  other  neighboring 
mountains — But  so  soon  as  the  feet  of  the  priests, 
who  bare  the  ark,  touched  the  waves  of  this  rapid 
river,  God  caused  the  stream  to  roll  back:  and  it  stood 
in  heaps  far  beyond  the  city  of  Adam,  while  the  flood 
below  continuing  its  course  to  the  Dead  Sea,  opened  a 
passage  of  about  sixteen  or  eighteen  miles  in  breadth, 
for  the  armies  of  Israel,  till  they  had  passed  o\  CT. 
The  priests  who  had  continued  in  the  bed  of  the  river 
till  the  whole  army  had  crossed,  now  remained 
while  twelve  stones  were  set  up  which  might  be  seen 
on  either  shore  when  the  waters  were  abated,  and  un- 
til twelve  stones,  taken  out  of  the  channel,  were  piled 
on  the  other  side  of  the  river.  They  then  ascended  to 
the  opposite  shore,  and  Jordan,  with  its  wonted  im- 
petuosity, rolled  its  stream  towards  the  Dead  Sea. 


255 

After  this  miraculous  passage,  the  passover  was  cel- 
ebrated for  the  third  time.  Jericho  was  soon  after 
taken  in  an  extraordinary  manner;  and  the  account 
of  its  capture,  is  abundantly  strengthened,  by  the  ful- 
filment of  a  most  remarkable  prophecy  uttered  at  the 
time.  Joshua  predicted,  when  it  was  rased  to  the 
ground,  that  whosoever  should  attempt  to  rebuild  it, 
should  "lay  the  foundations  thereof  in  his  firstborn, 
and  set  up  the  gates  thereof  in  his  youngest  son." — 
This  curse  was  literally  fulfilled  above  five  hundred 
and  fifty  years  after  it  was  denounced.  Kiel,  the  Be- 
thelite,  attempted  to  rebuild  it:  but  "he  laid  the  foun- 
dation thereof  in  Abiran.  his  firstborn,  and  set  up  the 
gates  thereof  in  his  youngest  son  Segub,"  who  both 
died  in  consequence  of  the  trespass  of  their  father. 
After  the  death  of  Achan,  the  conquest  of  the  land 
was  effected  in  about  six  years. 

In  the  battle  against  the  five  kings  who  fought 
against  Gibeon,  two  miracles  are  recorded:  the  assist- 
ance afforded  the  Israelites  by  a  fall  of  hailstones,  and 
the  standing  still  of  the  sun  and  moon  at  the  com- 
mand of  Joshua.  For  the  first  of  these,  we  observe 
that  it  is  now  no  uncommon  thing  to  read  of  a  storm 
literally  of  stones,  which  probably  was  the  case  in  this 
tempest  of  Joshua:  and  these  phenomena  have  been 
attributed  to  earthquakes,  eruptions,  and  various 
causes,  The  miracle  then,  consists  in  the  timing  of 
this  awful  storm,  and  the  direction  of  its  fury  against 
the  enemies  of  Israel.  For  the  standing  still  of  the 
sun  and  moon,  we  conceive  that  this  miracle  does  not 
militate  against  the  present  system  of  astronomy,  since 
the  suspension  of  the  earth's  motion  would  produce 
the  same  appearances,  and  not  only  the  sun  and 
moon,  but  all  the  planete,  would  necessarily  seem  to 


256 

be  stationary.  As  this  last  was  n  miracle,  conspicu- 
ous not  merely  to  the  enemies  with  whom  they  fought, 
but  to  all  nations,  it  must  have  been  to  the  Canaanites, 
a  most  afflictive  demonstration,  that  the  hand  of  God 
was  against  them,  and  with  their  enemies;  and  thus 
is  the  design,  the  propriety,  and  the  necessity,  of  this 
miracle,  at  once  demonstrated.  Thus  by  little  and 
little  the  whole  land  was  subdued,  till  the  Israelites 
obtained  complete  possession;  and  before  he  closed 
his  eyes  in  death,  Joshua  divided  the  whole  country 
among  the  several  tribes,  and  beheld  the  final  accom- 
plishment of  the  promise,  which  God  had  made,  so 
many  centuries  before,  to  Abraham.  Having  brought 
into  as  narrow  compass  as  possible  the  statement  of 
these  facts  according  to  the  scriptures, 

II.  WE  SHALL  SET  BEFORE  YOU  SUCH  FOREIGN  TESTI- 
MONIES AS  APPEAR  TO  US  CALCULATED  TO  ELUCI- 
DATE AND  TO  CONFIRM  THIS  ACCOUNT. 

We  shall  produce, 

I.    POSITIVE    EVIDENCE    FRCM    THE    MOST    ANCIENT 

WRITERS,  either  relative  to  particular  facts,  or  to  the 
circumstances  attending  them.  The  birth  of  Moses, 
his  deliverance  from  the  water,  and  his  receiving  the 
moral  law,  is  selected  by  EUSEBIUS  out  of  ARISTOBU- 
LUS.  The  ancient  writer  of  the  ORPHIC  verses,  after 
asserting  that  only  one  God  is  to  be  worshipped  as  the 
Creator  and  Governor  of  the  world,  adds,  "So  was  it 
said  of  old:  so  he  commands,  who  was  born  of  water, 
and  who  received  of  God  the  two  great  tables  of  the 
moral  law."  STRABO  applauds  Moses  for  reproving 
(he  error  of  the  Egyptians  in  likening  the  Deity  to 
beasts ,~~  JUVENAL  mentions  the  adherence  of  the  Jews 
to  their  law  "given  by  Moses."  As  a  writer  he  is 


265 

spoken  of  by  DIODORUS  SICULUS,  PLINY,  and  TACI 
TUS;  and  they  regard  his  history  with  great  respect 
We  have  already  seen  that  LONGINUS  quotes  the 
opening  of  Genesis,  as  an  instance  of  the  true  sublime. 
CHALCIDIUS  borrowed  many  things  from  the  writings 
of  Moses,  whom  he  calls  fckthe  wisest  of  men,  enliven- 
ed not  by  human  eloquence,  but  by  divine  inspiration." 
HERMIPPAS,  in  his  life  of  Pythagoras,  quoted  by  Jose- 
phus  against  Apion,  says,  that  "he  took  many  things 
into  his  own  philosophy  from  the  Jewish  laws."  An- 
cient writers  in  general  conspire  to  speak  highly  of  the 
piety  of  the  Jews,  so  long  as  they  adhered  to  the  law. 
These  testimonies  furnish  a  most  decisive  evidence, 
both  of  the  antiquity  of  the  Mosaic  writings,  and  of 
the  estimation  in  which  his  history  was  held*.  The 
EGYPTIANS  imitated  the  Urim  and  Thummim,  men- 
tioned in  the  ceremonial  laws:  for  DIODORUS  say?, 
that  the  chief  justice  "carries  on  his  neck  an  image  of 
precious  stones,  suspended  on  a  golden  chain."  The 
heathen  POETS  assert  that  Jupiter  overwhelmed  the 
enemies  of  Hercules  in  ARIM,  which  is  precisely  the 
country  where  Joshua  fought  with  the  children  of 
Anak,  by  ua  tempest  of  stones."  Moreover  it  appears 
credible  that  the  fables  current  in  the  heathen  world, 
of  the  protraction  of  the  day  and  of  the  night,  attrib- 
uted to  their  deities,  as  their  pleasure  or  their  con- 
venience required,  originated  in  the  fact  of  the  miracle 
wrought  by  Joshua,  in  arresting  the  light  of  the  sun 
and  moon. 

The  establishment  of  the  Jews  in  Canaan,  as  a  fact, 
cannot  be  questioned.  They  long  made  it  the  seat  of 
empire.  Skepticism  itself  admits  the  existence  of  the 

*  Grotius  de  Ver.  Relig.  Christ.  §  16.  See  also  note  1,  of  this  Lecture, 
at  the  end  of  the  volume. 


£57 

nations  which  preceded  Israel:  but  objects  to  the 
conduct  of  Joshua  in  dispossessing  them  of  their  terri- 
tories. 

The  testimonies  which  we  have  adduced  confirm 
the  Mosaic  history  as  a  whole,  rather  than  detached 
parts  of  it;  and  surely  when  it  is  considered,  as  it  has 
been  clearly  proved  by  Josephus  on  the  testimony  of 
MANETHO,*  that  the  settlement  of  the  Jews  in  Canaan 
was  three  hundred  and  ninety-three  years  before  Da- 
naus  came  to  Argos,  whom  the  Grecians  acknowledge 
their  most  ancient  prince,  and  from  whom  they  are 
frequently  named;  and  that  it  preceded  the  transac- 
tions of  Troy,  celebrated  by  their  most  ancient  poet, 
a  thousand  years;  particular  confirmations  of  such 
striking  events  as  the  deluge,  and  a  general  acquies- 
cence with  the  scripture  record,  is  all  that  ought  to  be, 
and  all  that  can  be,  expected  from  heathen  writers. 
They  could  not  know  any  thing  of  these  circumstan- 
ces but  by  tradition.  ORPHEUS  himself  lived  but  one 
thousand  years  before  Christ;  HESIOD,  nine  hundred; 
HOMER,  eight  hundred  and  fifty.  Orpheus  himself, 
therefore,  was  only  contemporary  with  Rehoboam,  the 
son  of  Solomon.  The  settlement  in  Canaan  took 
place  one  thousand  four  hundred  and  twenty-seven 
years  before  the  birth  of  our  Lord:  that  is,  four  hun- 
dred and  twenty-seven  years  before  Hesiod:  and  five 
hundred  and  seventy-seven  years  before  the  celebrated 
Homer.  Is  it  a  subject  for  wonder  that  obscurity 
should  rest  upon  facts  so  ancient?  We  appeal  to  the 
unprejudiced — is  it  not  rather  extraordinary,  that  facts 
so  remote  should  have  evidences  so  strong  and  deci- 
sive? We  wish  to  produce, 

•  See  note  2,  of  this  Lecture,  at  the  end  of  the  volume. 


258 

2.  CONSIDERATIONS   WHICH  MAY  BE  DEEMED  CIR- 
CUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCES. 

When  the  law  was  given  at  Sinai,  it  was  give1:;  pub- 
licly.    Nothing  was  done  in  secret.     Peculiar  glory, 
splendor,  and  notoriety,  attended  its  dispensation.    It 
was  not  a  meeting  of  the  chiefs  of  the  nation,  who  re- 
ported to  the  people  that  such  an  appearance  had  been 
manifested  to  them.     No!  the  whole  camp  witnessed 
the  magnificent  scene.     They  were  not  asleep  when 
God  descended  in  terrible  majesty.  They  were  awake 
to  every  transaction,  when  they  prostrated  themselves 
on  the  ground,  and  cried,  "Let  not  God  speak  to  us, 
lest  we  die."    Moses  could  not  impose  on  their  senses. 
Is  it  probable,  had  not  the  Israelites  actually  seen  "this 
great  sight,"  and  had  they  not  been  completely  con- 
vinced that  Moses  was  forty  days  and  forty  nights  up- 
on Mount  Sinai,  and  that  he  really  did  receive  the  law 
from  the  hand  of  God, — is  it  probable  that  they  would 
have  submitted  to  the  moral,  and  especially  to  the  cer- 
emonial laws,  many  of  which  were  opposite  both  to 
their  opinions,  and  to  their  ancient  customs?   The  ad- 
herence of  the  Jews  to  their  law  in  every  age,  is  an  in- 
contestable proof  that  they  believe  the  fact  of  the  man- 
ner in  which  it  was  given;  and  how  was  it  possible  for 
Moses  to  deceive  their  fathers,  in  those  things  of  which 
they  were  eye  and  ear-witnesses?  We  say  nothing  re- 
specting the   morality,  the  equity,  and  the  perfection 
of  the  moral  law,  which  demonstrates  that  God  alone 
could  be  its  author.     Compared  with  it,  all  the  admir- 
ed codeso  f  the  wisest  legislators  of  antiquity  are  bar- 
barous.    We  wave  this,  and  simply  ask  a  question, 
which  -we  challenge  infidelity  to  answer,  if  it  be  able, 
A  man  may  pretend  to  a  revelation,  without  having  it* 
as  did  Mahomet:  but  the  case  before  us  is  widely  dif. 


258 

ferent.  Here  is  no  secresy,  or  concealment;  her  are 
no  visions  or  dreams.  The  cloud,  the  fire,  the  trum- 
pet, the  darkness,  were  seen  and  heard  by  all  the  camp 
of  Israel.  They  were  prepared  for  the  event  by  puri- 
fication. Moses  ascended  in  their  presence,  and  de- 
scended before  them.  They  saw  his  fears:  they  saw 
the  tables  of  the  law  taken  up,  plain,  ungraven  stone: 
they  saw  them  when  they  were  brought  down,  filled. 
Events  were  recorded  at  the  moment  in  which  they 
took  place:  his  history  was  in  the  hands  of  his  contem- 
poraries; and  his  law  was  publicly  read  at  stated  peri- 
ods. We  ask,  how  was  it  possible  for  him  to  impose, 
in  the  first  instance,  upon  the  Jews?  We  are  reduced 
to  this  alternative.  Either  we  must  give  up  the  his- 
tory of  Moses  (corroborated  as  it  is  by  foreign  testi- 
monies) altogether:  we  must  believe  his  book  a  for- 

/  O 

gery  from  first  to  last:  we  must  even  deny  the  exist- 
ence of  the  Jewish  nation  at  that  period:  or  we  must 
admit  his  miracles  as  matters  01  fact;  since  he  could 
no  more  impose  the  manner  of  the  giving  of  the  law, 
than  the  law  itself,  upon  the  Jews.  Admit  that  the 
law  was  given,  and  that  he  is  the  author  of  these 
books,  and  you  must  to  be  consistent,  admit  all  its  cir- 
cumstances. 

Respecting  the  manna,  the  pillar  of  cloud  and  of 
fire,  and  other  miraculous  circumstances  attending 
their  journey,  was  it  possible  to  have  imposed  the  be- 
lief of  these  things  upon  the  progenitors  of  the  Jews 
(through  whose  hands  these  writings  were  transmitted 
from  generation  to  generation)  unless  they  really  cxist- 
Was  it  possible  to  persuade  the  multitude,  that 
they  were  e\  ei -\  day  fed  from  heaven,  for  the  space  of 
forty  years,  had  not  this  actually  been  the  case?  And 
without  a  miraculous  supply,  how  could  Moses  march 


259 

such  an  army,  through  such  a  country,  except  he  pos- 
sessed an  enormous  magazine  of  provisions?  And  from 
what  sources  could  he  derive  it? 

Whence  arose  the  various  customs  of  the  Jews  per- 
petuated to  the  present  hour,  if  they  did  not  originate 
in  facts  such  as  he  records?  What  could  give  rise  to 
the  passover?  What  could  have  suggested  the  various 
ceremonies  of  the  Jewish  worship?  Was  not  the  bra- 
zen serpent  in  existence  in  the  days  ot  Hezekiah? 
What  has  preserved  these  singular  institutions  in  every 
age,  and  in  every  country?  They  must  have  had  some 
origin.  We  admire  two  things  in  the  divine  govern- 
ment: the  one — the  perpetuation  of  miracles  till  after 
the  coming  of  Christ,  so  that  every  fresh  miracle  con- 
firmed former  ones:  the  other — the  continuation  of  the 
rites  of  the  Jews  down  to  the  present  hour.  Were  it 
not  from  the  circumstance  of  the  rejection  of  the  Sa- 
vior by  the  Jews,  and  their  consequent  obstinate  ad- 
herence to  their  ceremonial  law,  perhaps  it  would  be 
denied  that  such  rites  ever  existed.  In  this  we  cannot 
but  perceive  the  wisdom  of  Providence,  amid  all  its 
obscurity.  Could  a  whole  nation,  from  first  to  last, 
be  deceived?  Impossible!  I  never  see  a  Jew,  without 
feeling  conviction  of  the  truth  of  divine  revelation. 

The  reservation  of  some  of  the  Canaanites  for  sev- 
eral ages,  and  the  total  extermination  of  them  having 
never  been  effected,  was  a  decisive  evidence  to  succeed- 
ing generations,  who  were  not  eye-witnesses  of  the 
entrance  of  their  fathers  into  Canaan,  both  of  the  ex- 
istence, and  of  the  manners,  of  its  former  inhabitants; 
and,  by  consequence,  a  confirmation  of  all  the  records 
put  into  their  hands.  This  doubtless  was  one  import- 
ant reason  why  they  were  not  all  destroyed. 


260 

Once  again — the  reference  which  all  the  writings  of 
Moses  had  to  the  Messiah,  forms  a  part  of  that  grand 
and  unbroken  chain,  which  runs  through  the  whole 
volume  of  scripture,  from  first  to  last,  and  which  ren- 
ders it  impossible  to  take  away  any  part  without  de- 
stroying the  beauty,  and  affecting  the  existence,  of  all. 

III.  WE  SHALL  NOTICE  THE  OBJECTIONS  WHICH  SKEP- 
TICISM HAS  RAISED  AGAINST  THIS  PART  OF  THE  SA- 
CRED WRITINGS. 

1.  THEY  OBJECT  TO  THE  CONDUCT  OF  THE  ISRAEL- 
ITES AS  IMMORAL.  They  have  compared  the  settle- 
ment of  the  Jews  in  Canaan,  to  the  cruelty  of  the 
Spaniards  in  Mexico,  and  have  asserted,  that  the  one 
had  as  little  right  as  the  other,  to  dispossess  the  original 
inhabitants  of  these  respective  places,  of  their  territo- 
ries. Before  the  writings  of  Moses  are  condemned  al- 
together on  these  plausible  pretences,  we  shall  interpose 
a  series  of  propositions  drawn  up  by  a  most  able  hand,* 
which  we  think  are  unanswerable,  but  upon  which  you 
will  form  your  own  conclusions.  They  are  as  follows: 
"That  the  Almighty  has  a  sovereign  right  over  the  lives 
and  fortunes  of  his  creatures:  That  the  iniquity  of  na- 
tions, may  become  such  as  to  justify  him  in  destroy- 
ing those  nations:  That  he  is  free  to  choose  the  instru- 
ments by  which  he  will  effect  such  destruction:  That 
there  is  not  more  injustice  or  cruelty,  in  effecting  it  by 
the  sword,  than  by  famine,  pestilence,  whirlwind,  del- 
uge, and  earthquake:  that  the  circumstance  of  a  di- 
vine commission  entirely  alters  the  state  of  the  case,  and 
distinguishes  the  Israelites  from  the  Spaniards,  or  any 
other  plunderers,  as  much  as  a  warrant  from  the  magis- 
trate distinguishes  the  executioner  from  the  murderer: 

•  Bisliop  Home. 


261 

That  men  may  be  assured  of  God's  giving  such  a  com  - 
mission:  And  there  is  incontestable  evidence  upon  re- 
cord, and  from  tacts,  that  the  Israelites  were  thus  as- 
sured." We  think  it  will  require  no  small  degree  of 
skill,  to  overturn  propositions  so  reasonable,  and  so 
admirably  dependant  upon  each  other. 

2.  THEY  OBJECT  TO  IT  AS  CRUEL:   on  account  of 
the  slaughter  of  children.     This  is  an  argument  pro- 
duced on  every  occasion  in  which  the  Bible  records 
human  desolation.     We  have  again  to  remind  them, 
that,  on  this  principle,  they  ought  to  quarrel  with  fam- 
ine, and  earthquakes,  and  all  the  scourges  of  nature; 
and  not  only  so,  but  with  the  natural  stroke  of  death, 
by  which  thousands  of  children  are  destroyed  every 
day.     In  a  word,  if  the  security   and  tranquillity  of 
infants  be  the  reasonable  result  of  their  freedom  from 
actual  offence,  we  must  arrive  at  this  point,  that  they 
ought  in  justice  to  be  delivered  from  the  infliction  of  all 
evil;  and  thus  must  we  either  deny  the  experience  of 
every  day,  which  exhibits  children  suffering  pains  and 
sorrows  incessantly,  or  habitually  dispute  the  justice, 
and  the  goodness,  of  God,  in  the  government  of  the 
world. 

3.  THEY  OBJECT  TO  IT  AS  IMPROPER.     They  assert, 
that  God  should  not  use  instruments,  who  might  be 
hardened  by  the  execution  of  their  commission.     In 
every  point  of  view  the  case  was  different  with  the 
Jews.     It  was  not  effected,  said  the  text  justly,  by  their 
"own  sword/'  and  by  their  "own  bow:"  bufe  by  the 
i;hornet,"  and  by  a  series  of  miracles,  which  plainly  de- 
monstrated the  interposition  of  Providence.   Moreover^ 
the  execution  of  their  commission,  was  not  calcula- 
ted to  harden  their  hearts  against  any  thing  but  sin: 
and  was  designed  as  an  awful  lesson  of  caution  to 


262 

themselves:  since  they  were  expressly  assured,  that  the 
same  vices  would  draw  upon  them  the  same  displeas- 
ure, expose  them  inevitably  to  the  same  calamities,  and 
drown  them  in  the  same  perdition. 

The  history  which  has  passed  under  review,  affords 
a  striking  exemplification  of  divine  fidelity  and  purity, 
and  of  the  harmony  and  success  of  all  the  designs  of 
God.  Whatever  is  difficult  and  obscure,  this  is  plain 
and  luminous:  whatever  in  Providence  is  calculated  to 
impress  awe  and  terror,  this  excites  only  the  emotions 
of  admiration  and  delight. 

It  is  pleasant  to  observe,  amid  the  caprices,  and  the 
fluctuations,  of  human  purposes,  the  undivided,  and 
unshaken  plans  of  Jehovah,  hastening  with  undevia- 
ting  perseverance  to  their  completion.  Man  commen- 
ces operations  to-day,  which  he  abandons  to-morrow. 
Either  the  difficulties  that  present  themselves  are  in- 
surmountable, or  he  is  weary  of  the  length  of  way 
which  is  between  him  and  the  attainment  of  his  wish- 
es, or  some  new  object  is  started,  or  he  is  interrupted 
by  death:  from  some  cause  or  other,  it  is  seldom  that 
his  purpose  is  accomplished.  He  began  to  build,  but 
either  he  had  not  counted  the  cost,  or  not  well  chosen 
the  ground,  or  through  lack  of  materials,  or  workmen, 
the  tools  fell  from  his  hand,  and  the  unfinished  edifice 
stands  a  lasting  monument  of  the  folly,  the  poverty, 
or  the  caprice,  of  the  architect.  It  is  not  so  with  the 
Deity.  No  difficulty  can  impede  his  designs:  he  com- 
mands, and  the  mountain  becomes  a  plain.  No  length 
of  time  can  frustrate  his  wishes:  for  time  is  swallow- 
ed up  before  him.  That  which  his  will  purposes,  is, 
in  his  estimation,  accomplished:  for,  to  him,  the  dis- 
tance between  the  plan  and  its  execution,  is  annihila- 
ted. A  thousand  '-years  with  the  Lord  are  as  one 


265 

day" — "a  thousand  ages,  as  yesterday  when  it  io  past." 
No  new  object  can  distract  his  attention,  and  lead  him 
aside  from  his  original  purpose:  for  "he  is  of  one  mind, 
and  who  can  turn  him?"  and  "he  seeth  the  end  from 
the  beginning."     Death  cannot  interrupt  his  opera- 
tions: for  with  him  is  "neither  beginning  of  days  nor 
end  of  life."     lie  counts  the  cost,  and  lays  the  foun- 
dation of  the  edifice,  deep  and  lasting:  he  furnishes 
materials,  and  raises  up  workmen  to  prosecute  his  de- 
signs; and  although  these  "cannot  continue  by  reason 
of  death,"  as  they  drop  the  tools,   he  puts  them  into 
the  hands  of  others!  One  strikes  a  blow  or  two  with 
the  hammer,  and  drives  a  nail:  another  spreads  the 
mortar,  places  "one  stone  upon  another,"  leaves  it  to 
cement,  and  falls  asleep:   a  third  pursues  the  process; 
and  amid  the  removal  of  the  laborers,  the  building  of 
God  continues  to  rise,  till  "the  topstone  is  brought 
forth  with  shouting." 

It  is  pleasant  to  see  the  Deity  superintending  the  de- 
liberations of  those  who  acknowledge  him  not,  and 
from  their  chaos  causing  a  beautiful  creation  to  spring 
to  light.  In  the  midst  of  senates,  of  privy  councils, 
and  of  camps,  the  invisible  God  presides.  The  con- 
queror knows  him  not,  and  the  assembly  think  not  of 
him,  who  is  in  the  midst  of  them.  Short-sighted  and 
bewildered  in  their  plans,  their  schemes  are  dictated 
by  the  exigencies  of  the  moment:  but  he  is  making 
them  the  instruments  of  fulfilling  his  pleasure.  They 
wish  to  shake  the  power  of  this  and  that  empire, 
to  check  the  insolent  rapacity  of  an  unprincipled  ty- 
rant, to  extend  their  own  political  interests,  or  to  add 
such  a  tract  of  country,  and  such  a  distant  possession, 
to  their  own  dominion.  They  form  alliances,  and 

34 


266 

project  enterprises:  he  sanctions,  or  crushes,  these,  as 
he  sees  fit — still  pursuing  his  own  eternal   purposes. 

It  is  pleasant  to  see  the  gradual  devel  ope  merit  of 
his  plans,  and  the  regular  succession  of  events,  which 
accomplish  them.  He  is  "a  God  of  order,  and  not  of 
confusion."  Nothing  is  premature,  nothing  is  retarded, 
nothing  is  out  of  place.  All  is  concord,  co-operation, 
Utility,  beauty,  stability. 

It  will  be  pleasant  hereafter  to  see  the  accomplish- 
ment of  the  whole  scheme.  So  transient  is  our  present 
existence,  that  a  very  small  portion  of  the  divine  plans 
can  fall  within  its  narrow  compass.  In  a  few  instances, 
like  the  present,  the  records  of  truth  enable  us  to  form 
some  conception  of  the  operations  of  God,  and  the  his- 
tory is  the  counterpart  of  the  prediction.  But  when 
we  shall  have  subdued  our  enemies,  and  completed  our 
wanderings  in  the  wilderness:  when  we  shall  have 
passed  Jordan,  and  taken  possession  of  our  heavenly 
Canaan:  we  shall  compare  the  prediction,  the  event, 
and  its  consequences  together:  and  with  Abraham, 
Isaac,  and  Jacob,  raise  the  shout  of  triumph  in  the 
kingdom  of  God! 


LECTURE  X. 

THE  GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  JEWS— INCLUDING 
THE  THEOCRACY  AND  MONARCHY,  TO  THE 
BUILDING  OF  SOLOMON'S  TEMPLE:  WITH  A 
CONFIRMATION  OF  SOME  SUBORDINATE  FACTS. 

1  SAM.  viii,  6—10  &  19,  20. 

But  the  thing  displeased  Samuel,  when  they  said, 
give  us  a  king  to  judge  us:  and  Samuel  prayed 
unto  the  Lord;  And  the  Lord  said  unto  Samuel, 
Hearken  unto  the  voice  of  the  people  in  all  that 
they  say  unto  thee:  for  they  have  not  rejected  thee, 
but  they  have  rejected  Me,  that  I  should  not  reign 
over  them.  According  to  aU  the  works  which  they 
have  done  since  the  day  that  I  brought  them  up 
out  of  Egypt,  even  unto  this  day,  wherewith  they 
have  forsaken  me,  and  served  other  gods;  so  do 
they  also  unto  thee.  Now  therefore  hearken  unto 
their  voice:  howbeit,  yet  protest  solemnly  unto  them, 
and  shew  them  the  manner  of  the  king  that  shall 
reign  over  them.  And  Samuel  told  all  the  words  of 
the  Lord  unto  the  people,  that  asked  of  him  a  king. 

Nevertheless,   the  people  refused  to  obey  the 

voice  of  Samuel;  and  they  said,  Nay,  but  we  WILL 
have  a  king  over  us:  That  we  also  may  be  like  all 
the  nations,  and  that  our  king  may  judge  us,  and 
go  out  before  us,  andjight  our  battles. 

ACTS  vn.  44 — 48. 

Our  Fathers  had  the  Tabernacle  of  witness  in  the 
wilderness,  as  he  had  appointed,  speaking  unto 


263 

Moses,  that  he  should  make  it  according  to  the 
fashion  that  he  had  seen.  Which  also  our  fathers 
that  came  after,  brought  in  with  Jesus  into  the  pos- 
session of  the  Gentiles,  whom  God  drave  out  before 
the  face  of  our  fathers,  unto  the  days  of  David. 
Who  found  favor  before  God,  and  desired  to  find 
a  tabernacle  for  the  God  of  Jacob.  But  Solomon 
built  him  an  house.  Howbeit  the  Most  High 
dwelleth  not  in  temples  made  with  hands. 

HEB.  xi,  32—34. 

And  what  shall  I  more  sat/?  for  the  time  would  fail 
me  to  tell  of  Gideon,  and  of  Barak,  and  of  Samp- 
son, and  ofJeptha,  of  David  also,  and  Samuel,  and 
of  the  prophets.  Who  through  faith  subdued  king- 
doms, wrought  righteousness,  obtained  promises, 
stopped  the  mouths  of  lions,  quenched  the  violence  of 
fire,  escaped  the  edge  of  the  sword,  out  of  weakness 
were  made  strong,  waxed  valiant  in  jight,  turned  to 
flight  the  armies  of  the  aliens. 

WHATEVER  be  the  views  of  man  respecting  the 
veracity  of  the  scriptures,  it  must  be  admitted  that  the 
subjects  of  winch  they  treat,  and  upon  which  they 
promise  elucidation,  are  to  the  last  degree  inter- 
esting and  important.  If  there  be  a  God,  it  is  of 
the  first  consequence,  that  we  should  understand  our 
relation  to  him,  the  duties  which  we  owe  him,  and 
the  service  which  he  requires.  The  question  whether 
revelation  has  given  us  just  views  on  this  subject, 
cannot  be  .nlved,  except  it  be  in  the  first  instance  se- 
riously r<r<  i\ '  el,  and  cautiously  examined;  and  pro- 
fessing to  give  us  decisive  information  upon  these 
points,  it  demands  respect,  it  should  awaken  interest, 


269 

it  should  prom'ote  inquiry,  and  the  investigation  of 
its  claims,  ought  to  be  conducted  under  the  influence 
of  a  sincere  desire  to  serve  the  cause  of  truth.  As  it 
is  professedly  the  production  of  men  of  real  genius, 
and  displays  eloquence  and  beauty  which  extort  un- 
willing praise  from  the  lips  of  its  adversaries,  it  ought 
not  to  be  treated  either  with  indifference  or  with  con- 
tempt. The  wisdom  manifested,  and  the  good  pro- 
posed in  it,  are  vastly  above  ridicule.  While  it  profess- 
es to  be  the  word  of  God,  and  till  the  contrary  be  in- 
contestably  proved,  it  should  be  approached  with  res- 
pect; and  as  the  subjects  it  proposes  are  inseparably 
connected  with  our  peace,  it  should  be  examined  with 
care.  It  is  exceedingly  absurd  to  prejudge  a  cause  which 
we  have  not  tried,  and  to  condemn  a  book  which  we 
h^ve  not  read.  And  yet  it  is  more  than  probable  that 
the  larger  number  of  the  opponents  of  revelation,  have 
not  taken  the  trouble  to  examine  its  contents,  much 
less  to  weigh  its  evidences.  What  then  are  we  to 
think  of  a  man  who  could  sit  down  to  refute  a  book, 
which  from  his  own  confession  he  had  not  read  for 
years;  and  which,  if  we  may  form  a  judgment  upon 
his  injurious  and  profane  production,  he  had  never 
consulted  with  attention?  When  he  had  occasion  to 
refer  to  its  compositions,  not  possessing  a  Bible  of  his 
own,  and  not  willing  to  re  examine  the  production 
which  he  so  virulently,  and  on  such  slender  ground, 
condemned,  he  was  compelled  to  substitute  a 
poetical  paraphrase  for  the  simple  language  of  the 
scriptures!  Is  this  candor?  Is  this  liberality?  Is  this 
fair  and  impartial  criticism?  If  it  be,  may  infidelity  ever 
enjoy  the  triumph  of  possessing  it:  we  neither  envy,  nor 
desire  to  share  such  honors:  we  are  satisfied  that  the 
glory  shall  be  all  their  own.  If  we  would  find  out  truth, 


270 

the  pretensions  of  this  book  must  be  fairly  examined, 
and  that  examination  should  be  made  with  a  mind  re- 
moved as  remotely  as  possible,  from  the  influence  of 
prejudice.  Wherever  the  truth  shall  eventually  be 
found  to  lie,  its  cause  will  not  have  been  served  by 
those  on  either  side,  who  have  prosecuted  their  re- 
searches with  indolence,  or  drawn  their  conclusions 
without  candor. 

The  present  Lecture  is  a  resting-point,  and  from  its 
nature,  induces  us  to  survey  the  ground  which  we  have 
already  trodden.  We  have  advanced  stepby  step  through 
the  Jewish  history,  from  the  calling  of  their  great  pro- 
genitor Abraham,  to  their  complete  establishment  in 
Canaan.  What  important  lessons  arise  out  of  this 
long  chain  of  historical  events!  what  examples  of  pie- 
ty! what  trials  of  patience!  what  exercises  of  faith! 
what  elucidations  of  providence!  what  evidences  of 
divine  veracity!  Abraham  received  the  promise  of  a 
son  at  the  advanced  age  of  an  hundred  years;  and  the 
accomplishment  of  the  prediction  was  the  dawn  of  the 
fidelity  of  God.  When  this  patriarch  died,  he  left 
behind  him,  for  his  son,  no  inheritance  in  Canaan,  "no, 
not  so  much  as  to  set  his  foot  on" — the  "cave  of  the 
field  of  Machpelah"  excepted;  and  that,  he  held  by 
purchase,  and  not  .as  the  gift  of  heaven.  Did  this  ap- 
pear like  the  possession  of  the  promised  land  by  his 
descendants?  Yet  in  tracing  successive  events  through 
all  their  windings,  revelation  has  furnished  us  with 
decisive  evidences  as  the  result  of  our  inquiries,  that 
all  these  promises  were  fulfilling  in  their  order,  and 
that  they  actually  did  receive  their  complete  accom- 
plishment. Through  the  envy  of  his  brethren  llie  fa- 
vorite son  of  Jae<.l>  was  sold  into  Knvpt.  By  a  most 
extraordinary  combination  of  events,  the  little  Hebrew 
captive  was  seated  upon  the  throne  of  the  kingdom, 


271 

next  to  the  monarch  himself.  A  famine  prevailing  in 
Canaan  drove  bis  relatives  into  Egypt.  There  he  had 
an  opportunity  of  making  himself  known  to  those 
who  had  so  grievously  persecuted  him;  and  his  father, 
partly  urged  by  necessity,  and  strongly  impelled  by 
parental  affection,  went  down,  with  all  his  household, 
and  settled  in  Egypt.  This  was  the  third  generation 
from  Abraham.  The  lapse  of  years  swept  them  all 
away;  and,  according  to  the  prediction,  his  "seed  be- 
came strangers  in  a  strange  land."  As  it  had  been 
foretold,  their  bondage  was  most  severe  and  cruel;  and 
at  the  exact  period  of  time  fixed,  under  the  conduct  of 
Moses,  they  were  delivered  from  their  servitude. 
Many  years  were  spent  in  wandering  through  the  wil- 
derness: till  at  length,  the  delay  occasioned  by  their 
transgressions  being  removed,  they  obtained  possession 
of  Canaan.  At  this  point  are  we  arrived;  and  the  in- 
ferences deducible  from  this  series  of  history  are  obvi- 
ous, and  important.  It  is  evident  that  HE  "sees  the 
end  from  the  beginning,"  who  predicted  the  establish- 
ment of  the  Israelites  in  Canaan,  four  hundred  years 
before  it  took  place,  and  at  a  time  when  every  thing- 
appeared  to  oppose  the  designs  of  Deity,  and  to  con 
spire  to  shake  the  faith  of  Abraham.  We  have  seen 
positive  good  arising  out  of  apparent  evil,  and  the  pur- 
poses of  God  accomplished  by  the  most  unlikely  in- 
struments. We  are  certain,  admitting  the  statement 
of  facts  as  laid  down  in  the  scriptures,  that  there  is  a 
God  that  ruleth  in  the  earth;  and  that  no  hand,  but 
the  hand  of  Omnipotence,  could  have  brought  events 
so  extraordinary  to  pass.  We  have  seen  every  thing 
give  way  before  a  people  conducted  by  the  agency  of 
heaven;  and  are  led  irresistibly  to  conclude,  that  the 
time,  the  manner,  the  instruments,  were  all  selected 


272 

and  ordained,  by  the  most  consummate  wisdom.  We 
are  taught  never  to  despair  when  we  have  a  divine 
leader,  never  to  murmur  when  events  seem  adverse  to 
our  expectations,  never  to  waver  when  the  promise 
appears  remote  in  its  accomplishment,  and  never  to 
draw  conclusions  till  Deity  has  completed  his  designs. 
If  the  consideration  of  these  facts,  shall  have  strength- 
ened the  faith  of  one  Christian,  or  furnished  a  single 
solution  of  the  mysteries  of  Providence,  we  shall  not 
have  recited  the  Jewish  history  in  vain. 

A  new  path  is  marked  out  for  us  this  evening.  We 
have  not  to  lead  your  attention  through  a  long  suc- 
cession of  historical  events,  so  much  as  to  enter  into  a 
necessary  discussion  of  the  government  of  the  Jews, 
connected  remotely  with  some  general  passages  of 
their  later  chronicles,  and  immediately,  with  that  great 
event,  the  building  of  their  splendid  temple,  one  of  the 
wonders  of  the  world:  The  subject  stands  thus  worded 
in  the  list — THE  GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  JEWS — INCLUD- 
ING THE  THEOCRACY,  AND  MONARCHY,  TO  THE  BUILD- 
ING OF  SOLOMON'S  TEMPLE;  to  which  we  shall  sub- 
join A  CORROBORATION  OF  SOME  SUBORDINATE  FACTS, 

not  of  sufficient  importance  to  demand  a  separate 
Lecture.  We  begin  with 

I.    THE    THEOCRACY    OF    THE   JH\\ 

An  inquiry  into  the  rise  of  government,  and  a  sur- 
vey of  the  gradual  advance  of  power,  is  neither  unin- 
teresting, nor  unnecessary,  in  the  Lecture  of  this  even- 
ing. 

The  first  form  of  government  appears  to  have  been 
TIIK  PARENTAL,  and  THE  PATRIARCHAL.  The  father 
had  a  natural  claim  upon  the  affections  and  the  obe- 
dience of  his  children.  They  were  united  to  him  by 


271 

sacred  and  indissoluble  ties.     Man  is  not  happy  alone: 
in  every  period  of  lite  he  stands  connected  with  others; 
and  his  interests  are  linked  with   theirs.     In  society 
there  must  be  an  head,  a  leader,  a  guide,  to  whom  the 
eye  can  look  up,  and  upon  whom  the  heart  can  rely. 
In  the  earliest  state  of  nature  man  felt  the  force  of  this 
truth;  and  who  could  appear  to  him  so  suited  for  this 
office,  and  so  capable   of  this  responsibility,  as  the 
friend,    and    the    "guide     of  his    youth?"      Where 
could  they  select  one  so  attached  to  their  persons,  to 
their  interests,  and  to  their  general  welfare?  The  bonds 
of  nature  were  strengthened  by  those  of  the  judgment 
and  its  obligations  confirmed  by  choice.      The  decis- 
ions of  the  heart  were  ratified  by  the  conviction  of  the 
understanding;  and  in  those  early  ages,  the  characters 
of  the  parent,  and   of  the  patriarch,  were  blended. 
Their  children  yielded  reverence  to  their  age,  attach- 
ment to  their  tenderness,  and  obedience  to  their  requi- 
sitions.    Then  the  parent  was  the  priest,  and  the  king, 
of  his  family.     His  wile,  his  children,  his  servants,  all 
looked  up  to  him  as  their  natural  and  legitimate  ruler, 
and  his   authority    was   not  disputed.     Behold  him 
kneeling  before   the    common  altar,    with  hallowed 
hands  stretched  towards  heaven,  imploring  family,  and 
individual,  mercies!  Did  the  demon  of  discord  creep  in 
among  them?  and  were  the  marks  of  dissatisfaction, 
alienation,  and  disunion  imprinted  upon  their  counte- 
nances? they  laid  their  differences  at  his  paternal  feet, 
and  from  his  decision  they  made   no  appeal.     Provi- 
dence conspired  with  nature  to  compel  them  to  hold 
the  will  of  a  parent  sacred;  and  the  punishment  of 
Cain,  the  disobedient  and  the  murderer,  would  ever 
be  before  the  eyes  of  the  first  race  of  mankind.     Even 
in  a  later  age,  Esau,  abandoned  as  he  was  to  work  all 
3* 


272 

iniquity  with  greediness,  and  deterred  by  no  sense  of 
shame  from  the  commission  of  evil,  when  he  had  it  in 
his  heart  to  murder  his  brother,  resolved  to  wait  till 
the  days  of  mourning  for  his  father  should  be  accom- 
plished, wrho  apparently  was  gradually  sinking  into 
the  grave.  This  fratricide  in  his  heart  dared  not  to 
perpetrate  his  horrible  design  under  the  paternal  roof, 
and  before  his  father's  face.  The  sons  of  Jacob,  when 
they  sold  their  brother,  presumed  not  to  enter  into  their 
fathers  presence,  but  with  a  tale  to  deceive  him:  they 
did  not  dare  to  risk  the  dreadful  crime  of  bringing 
down  his  gray  hairs  with  sorrow  to  the  grave,  openly 
and  avowedly.  And  time  aided  these  impressions  of 
reverence  which  nature  dictated,  and  Providence  con- 
firmed, and  custom  established.  In  that  early  period, 
when  the  years  of  a  man's  life  were  extended  to  so 
great  a  length,  the  exercise  of  parental  authority  reach- 
ed to  several  generations.  Paternal  dignity  acquired 
strength  by  years.  The  most  tender  affections  were 
chastened  by  the  most  awful  respect.  The  younger 
laid  their  hand  upon  their  mouth,  and  were  silent  be- 
fore venerable  age;  and  they  said,  "Days  should  speak, 
and  the  multitude  of  years  should  teach  wisdom/7 
Blessed  rule!  which  perpetually  held  in  view  the  inter- 
ests of  those  who  voluntarily  submitted  to  its  direc- 
tions. Blessed  government!  where  the  father  wras  the 
prince,  where  parental  affection  softened  patriarchal 
authority,  and  where  filial  love  was  blended  with 
cheerful  submission,  and  with  respectful  obedience. 
Blessed  tirn^s!  when  the  interests  of  men  were  one  and 
undivided,  and  when  no  arbitrary  and  cruel  despot- 
ism blotted  the  primeval  reign.  Happy  are  those 
countries,  which  like  our  own,  approach  the  nearest  to 
this  picture  of  ancient  simplicity  in  their  government. 


275 

where  authority  suppresses  anarchy,  where  liberty 
limits  power,  and  where  the  prince,  consulting  only 
the  interests,  reigns  always  in  the  hearts  of  his  willing 
and  obedient  people! 

As  men  multiplied  upon  the  face  of  the  earth,  the 
relations  of  human  life  branched  into  various,  and 
widely-extended  ramifications.  The  field  of  author- 
ity became  every  day  larger;  and  in  a  family  which 
once  was  one,  but  now  was  divided  into  many,  some 
were  found  who  would  not  bow  to  patriarchal  restraint; 
of  course,  as  in  the  present  day,  there  were  distinct 
heads  to  separate  families,  and  a  form  of  government 
was  wanting  which  should  embrace  the  whole.  Here 
was  a  scene  opened  to  ambition!  The  man  of  bold, 
daring,  enterprising  genius,  pressed  on  to  gain  the  dan- 
gerous summit  of  pre-eminence  over  his  brethren. 
After  the  flood  we  first  read  of  NIMROD.  Whether 
he  were  a  tyrant  or  not,  according  to  our  usage  of  the 
word,  has  been  the  subject  of  much  discussion;  and 
the  scriptural  account  of  him  is  too  short  to  admit  the 
question  to  be  decided  with  any  degree  of  precision. 
It  is  clear,  however,  that  by  some  means  he  acquired 
a  considerable  ascendency  over  his  brethren;  and  "be- 
gan to  be  great  in  the  earth.  He  is  the  same  with 
Belus,  who  was  afterwards  worshipped  as  a  God  un- 
der that  name."  He  was  the  grandson  of  Noah,  and 
is  termed  in  the  scriptures  "a  mighty  hunter  before 
the  Lord."  By  this  laborious  exercise,  probably,  he 
gained  the  affections  of  the  people,  in  delivering  them 
from  the  dangers  arising  from  the  too  great  increase 
of  beasts  of  prey;  while,  at  the  same  moment,  he  train- 
ed up  the  young  men  -'to  endure  hardness."  The  ha* 
bitual  command  which  on  these  occasions  he  assumed, 
and  the  habits  of  obedience  which  they  acquired. 


276 

probably,  enabled  him  to  establish,  and  to  maintain, 
the  unbounded  authority  which  he,  at  length  exercised. 
It  is  said  that  -'he  began  to  be  mighty  in  the  earth;" 
by  which  phrase  we  are  probably  to  understand,  that 
he  procured  himself  settlements,  founded  cities,  blend- 
ed different  families,  united  the  people  under  his  own 
authority,  and  moulded  them  into  one  state.  His 
original  dominion  was  bounded  by  the  Euphrates  and 
the  Tigris:  but  in  the  revolution  of  years,  and  by 
gradual  acquisitions,  it  was  much  enlarged,  and  be- 
came one  of  the  four  great  empires  of  the  world 
Babylon  was  the  beat  of  his  kingdom:  afterwards  he 
built  Nineveh,  which  he  so  denominated  from  his  son 
Ninus,  and  laid  the  foundation  of  the  Assyrian  em- 
pire.* Thus  the  PATRIARCHAL  government  became 

JffONARCHiCAL. 

But  men  began  to  forsake  the  precepts  delivered  to 
them  by  their  fathers,  and  to  deny,  or  to  forget,  the 
God  who  made  them.  The  CONFUSION  OF  TONGUES 
separated  and  scattered  the  people,  and  this  dispersion 
was  the  origin  of  nations.  When  idolatry  had  spread 
itself  extensively,  perhaps  we  might  say  universally,  it 
pleaded  Godtocal)  Abraham,  and  to  choose  his  family, 
and  his  descendants,  as  his  own  PECULIAR  people. 
This  nation  was  selected  as  a  public  evidence  of  the 
existence,  and  of  the  providence  of  God — was  set  up 
as  a  perpetual  admonition  to  the  world.  We  have 
KTII  them  crowned  with  visible  prosperity  under  his 
•tordinary  guardianship:  and  we  have  contemplat- 
ed singular,  and  public  manifestations,  of  the  divine 
interposition  in  their  favor.  Should  any  be  disposed 
to  question  the  fact  of  this  choice,  and  of  this  guar- 

•  See  Rollin'g  Anc-  Hist  vol.  ii,  p.  178,  &c. 


234 

dianship,  they  must  be  silenced  by  the  demonstration 
of  the  same  providence,  and  of  the  same  care,  exerted 
in  favor  of  the  same  people,  to  the  present  hour.  Af- 
ter a  dispersion  of  eighteen  centuries  over  the  face  of 
the  whole  earth,  held  every  where  in  contempt,  exist- 
ing in  a  state  of  the  most  abject  ignominy,  they  still 
remain,  in  incredible  numbers,  unmixed  with,  although 
subsisting  in  the  midst  of,  all  other  nations,  and  totally 
distinct  and  separate  from  all  the  inhabitants  of  the 
globe.  And  while  this  undeniable  fact  is  a  decisive 
proof  of  the  divine  choice  of  them  as  a  people,  this  ex- 
traordinary interposition  of  Heaven  on  their  behalf,  is 
also  a  standing  miracle  in  favor  of  revelation.  They 
have  been  harassed,  detested,  persecuted,  massacred 
in  all  countries,  by  all  ranks:  yet  have  they  seen  the 
rise,  and  the  fall,  of  many  imperial  nations,  which  held 
them  in  servitude,  and  which  shook  the  oppressor's 
rod  over  their  head;  and  in  this  forlorn,  wandering, 
wretched,  and  apparently  abandoned  state,  they  re- 
main a  people,  and  a  great  people. 

From  this  choice,  and  upon  the  deliverance  of 
Israel  from  Egypt,  arose  the  MOSAIC  OR  LEVITICAL 
DISPENSATION;  and  the  government  under  this  dis- 
pensation was  a  THEOCRACY.  This  term  is  compound- 
ed of  two  Greek  words  Qtos  God,  and  vi^uleu  to  govern; 
and  implies  that  the  Jews  were  immediately  under  the 
authority  of  God  as  their  king.  To  elucidate  this  as- 
sertion we  remark,  that,  in  three  distinct  views,  God 
may  be  considered  as  the  God  of  the  Hebrews: 

1.  As  the  great  Parent  of  all  men — the  Ruler  of  the 
hearts,  the  properties,  the  lives,  and  the  affairs  of  the 
creation  at  large,  and  of  the  Jews  as  a  PART  of  the 
creation.  This  is  a  relation  which  he  bears  to  them 
in  common  with  all  the  world.  Hence  he  required  of 
the  Israelites  all  the  duties  of  the  light  of  nature,  and 


278 

of  the  moral  law,  which  binds  all  mankind  as  well  as 
themselves,  and  extends  through  every  dispensation. 

2.  As  the  God  of  Israel  peculiarly,  as  a  visible  and 
outward  CHURCH,  whom  he  had  selected,  and  separa- 
ted from  all  other  nations,  to  be  his  own  peculiar  peo- 
ple.    Hence  he  prescribed  forms  and  modes  of  wor- 
ship: he  instituted  ceremonies  and  rites  of  religion,  by 
which  their  devotional   exercises  were  regulated,  as 
tokens  of  their  duty,  and  of  his  relation  to  them,  as  a 
chosen  and  distinct  people. 

3.  As  their  proper  and  only  King,  as  a  NATION. 
Hence  he  gave  them  judicial  and  political  laws,  rela- 
ting to  their  government,  their  constitution,  and  the 
several  relations  and  branches  of  society.     Whoever 
will  review  with  attention  the   Mosaic  law,  will  find 
that  there  are  not  only  moral  obligations  laid  down, 
but  ceremonial  and  ritual  observances  prescribed;  and 
these  again  are  connected  with  political  and  judicial 
commands:  so  that  it  is  evident  that  the  Jews  were  as 
much  under  the  direction  of  Heaven  in  their  civil,  as 
in  their  religious  laws  and   institutions.     Hence  there 
are  four  words,  which  are  frequently  deemed  synony- 
mous, but  which  in  the  scriptures  have  very  distinct 
significations — "statutes,  commandments,  judgments, 
and  testimonies1' — and  these  set  the  several  relations  of 
God  to  the  Jews,  and  particularly  the  theocracy,  in  a 
clear  point  of  view. 

4>S  Mich   institutions  as  had  their 

foundation  in  the  will  anil  pleasure  of  (iml  as  a  Sove- 
reign, and  for  which  no  particular  rra-on  on  any 
other  ground  could  be  aligned:  such  as  ktnot  to  sow 
two  seeds  of  different  kinds  togrth. 

"CoMMANDMKNTS,"    W(T(!    lUOI'dl    duties,     fill1     which 

the  reasons  were  manifest,  such  as  "not  to  st< 


2/9 

"JUDGMENTS,"  were  the  laws  belonging  to  civil 
government,  in  things  between  man  and  man:  such  as 
are  laid  down  in  Exodus,  the  twenty-first  and  the  fol- 
lowing chapters. 

'•TESTIMONIES,"  were  such  laws  as  preserved  the 
remembrance  of  some  great  events,  and  tcst'tfied  to  the 
peculiar  goodness  of  God:  such  as  the  sabbath,  the 
passover,  and  all  the  feasts. 

In  giving  his  last  charge  to  his  son  Solomon,  David 
enumerates  these  several  branches  of  divine  jurisdic- 
tion: "keep  the  charge  of  the  Lord  thy  God,  to  walk 
in  his  ways,  to  keep  his  STATUTES,  and  his  COMMAND- 
MENTS, and  his  JUDGMENTS,  and  his  TESTIMONIES,  as 
it  is  written  in  the  law  of  Moses."  And  thus  was  the 
relation  of  God  to  Israel,  not  merely  a  common  one, 
such  as  he  bears  to  all  men:  but  a  peculiar  one,  such 
as  he  never  had  to  any  people,  themselves  excepted. 

That  such  a  connexion  did  subsist  between  God 
and  Israel,  is  clearly  deducible  from  the  EPITHETS  be- 
stowed upon  that  nation,  throughout  the  scriptures. 
Because  he  singled  them  out  from  all  other  nations,  he 
is  expressly  said  to  CHOOSE  them.  "The  Lord  had  a 
delight  in  thy  fathers,  and  he  chose  their  seed  after 
them,  even  you,  above  all  people*." 

In  consequence  of  this  selection,  he  brought  them 
up  out  of  the  land  of  Egypt,  and  they  are  said  to  have 
been  DELIVERED!,  SAVEDJ,  PURCHASED}!,  REDEEMED^. 

He  is  said  to  CALL  them:  "When  Israel  was  a  child, 
then  I  loved  him,,  and  called  my  son  out  of  Egypt§.'? 

He  is  said  to  CREATE  them,  to  GIVE  THEM  LIFE,  to 
have  BEGOTTEN  them**. 

*   Deut.  x-  15.  y    Deut.  xxxil.  6. 

f  Exod,  iii.  8  if  Deut.  vii.  8. 

$  Deut-  xxxiii.  29.  $  Hoseu,  xi.  1. 

**  Is.  xliii.  1.  7.  Ezck.  xvi.3.  Deut.  xsxii.  18- 


280 

He  is  called  their  FATHER.  "Do  ye  thus  requite  the 
Lord,  O  foolish  people  and  unwise?  is  not  he  thy 
Father  that  hath  bought  thee?  hath  he  not  made 
thee,  and  established  theet?" 

These  several  scriptural  terms  imply  a  peculiar  re- 
lation, a  connexion  far  more  intimate  than  the  com- 
mon relation  of  God  to  the  creation  at  large,  and  to- 
tally distinct  from  it. 

Under  the  theocracy,  RULERS  were  appointed:  but 
these  were  selected  by  God  himself,  as  may  be  observ- 
ed in  respect  of  all  the  judges;  and  they  did  nothing 
but  expressly  under  divine  commission.  In  every 
movement,  and  in  every  plan,  the  will  of  God  was 
consulted.  The  theocracy  commenced  with  Moses,  and 
closed  with  Samuel,  after  having  subsisted  through  a 
period  of  four  hundred  and  seventy-six  years. 

The  rule  of  Samuel,  as  an  elder  of  Israel,  lasted 
twenty-one  years,  at  the  close  of  which  time  old  age 
stole  upon  him,  and  wishing  to  relinquish  the  cares  of 
government,  or  at  least  to  divide  them,  a  portion  of 
his  authority  was  vested  in  the  person  of  his  sons,  and 
they  became  judges.  So  far  from  copying  the  inflex- 
ible integrity  of  their  father,  we  find  them  delineated 
in  all  the  features  of  covetousness  and  of  oppression: 
they  "took  bribes,"  and  "perverted  judgment."  For 
a  season  the  Israelites  patiently  endured  their  wrongs: 
but  at  length  their  spirit  was  stirred  within  them  to  re- 
sist and  to  crush  this  tyranny.  The  blameless  method 
of  doing  this,  had  been  to  make  their  appeal  to  their 
divine  Monarch,  and  to  have  entreated  Samuel,  under 
the  direction  of  heaven,  to  elect  other,  and  upright 
rulers.  But  instead  of  this,  they  rejected  the  divine 

t  Deut.  xxxii,  6,  &c. 


281 

authority,  so  far  as  their  power  extended,  they  insisted 
upon  an  intire  new  form  of  government,  and  resolved, 
like  other  nations,  to  have  "a  king  to  reign  over  them." 
Deity  granting  them  their  wishes,  the  theocracy  ceas- 
ed, and  their  government  became  monarchical.*  Our 
next  object  in  this  Lecture  is  to  present  some  account 
of 

II.    THE  MONARCHY  OF  THE  JEWS. 

The  princes  of  Israel  possessed  great  power,  and  in 
later  ages,  before  the  coming  of  Christ,  it  was  exceed- 
ingly abused,  as  in  the  case  of  Ahab,  Manasseh,  and 
several  others. 

It  is  evident  that  this  change  in  the  government  was 
displeasing  to  God:  for  it  is  said,  "He  gave  them  a 
king  in  his  anger,  and  took  him  away  in  his  wrath;" 
and  it  is  an  inquiry  worthy  attention,  what  was  the 
ground  of  this  displeasure?  I  conceive  that  it  was  not 
the  change  of  government  as  it  respects  the  nomina- 
tion of  a  king  instead  of  a  ruler,  but  the  choosing  of  a 
king  so  far  as  in  their  power,  to  the  exclusion  of  God; 
and  on  this  principle  he  said  to  Samuel,  "They  have 
not  rejected  thee,  but  they  have  rejected  ME,  that  / 

*  When  we  speak  of  the  termination  of  the  theocracy  with  Samuel, 
and  at  the  commencement  of  the  monarchy,  \ve  do  not  mean  to  insinuate, 
that  the  divine  superintendence  of  the  affairs  of  the  Jewish  nation  ceas- 
ed, or  that  God  was  less  their  governor,  or  that  his  relation  to  them  was 
less  intimate,  and  peculiar,  than  before.  The  fact  is,  their  very  kings 
were  merely  rulers  of  a  different  description,  subjected  tu  the  same  con- 
trol, and  held  by  the  same  authority,  as  the  judges  under  the  theocra- 
cy. Hence  we  see  one  rejected,  and  another  chosen,  one  set  up  and 
another  cast  down,  and  the  hand  of  God  every  where,  in  the  whole  ma- 
chine of  the  Israelites*  government,  directing,  regulating,  and  giving  im- 
pulse to  every  wheel,  every  spring,  every  movement.  Nor  has  his  pe- 
culiar relation  to  the  Jews,  his  immediate  superintendence  of  their  con- 
cerns, and  his  miraculous  guardianship  of  their  persons,  and  of  their  in- 
terests, terminated  to  this  hour.  AH  that  we  mean  to  convey  is,  that 
the  theocracy  ceased  to  be  the  external  and  ostensible  government  of  the 
Jews:  that  continuing  to  exist,  it  was  in  a  different  shape;  and  that  as  it 
respects  its  form,  their  executive  power  became  monarchical. 

66 


282 

should  not  reign  over  them."  Their  criminality  con- 
sisted in  placing  a  man  on  the  throne  of  the  Deity, 
and  in  exalting  a  creature  to  the  seat,  which  had,  till 
that  time,  been  occupied  only  by  the  Creator.  Not 
any  form  of  government  is  opposed  in  this  declara- 
tion: but  its  force  is  directed  against  the  presumption 
of  the  Israelites  in  rejecting  a  divine  Governor.  Their 
situation  was  peculiar — was  unlike  that  of  all  other 
nations;  and  they  were  not  at  liberty,  on  just  princi- 
ples, to  make  so  material  an  alteration  in  their  gov- 
ernment without  first  consulting  God,  and  having  the 
sanction  of  his  authority.  So  far  from  consulting  him, 
it  appears  from  the  whole  history,  that  they  insibted  up- 
on having  a  king,  in  opposition  to  the  divine  will,  and  in 
defiance  of  all  the  consequences  which  Samuel  foretold. 
At  the  expiration  of  the  theocracy,  Saul  was  pri- 
vately anointed  king,  and  afterwards  publicly  pro- 
claimed at  Mizpeh,  From  the  time  of  his  anointing, 
to  his  death  in  Gilboa,  he  reigned  over  Israel  forty 
years.  It  would  not  be  consistent  either  with  our 
purpose,  or  with  the  time  usually  allotted  to  these  ex- 
ercises, to  enter  into  a  minute  detail  of  the  events  of 
his  reign.  He  drew  upon  himself  the  displeasure  of 
God,  by  disobeying  his  express  command,  in  relation 
to  the  extermination  of  the  Amalekites,  whom  he  had, 
at  the  time  when  they  opposed  Israel  in  the  wilder- 
ness, devoted  to  utter  destruction.  From  this  period 
to  the  end  of  his  reign,  he  is  presented  to  us  as  un  ob- 
ject of  pity!  It  is  said,  "the  spirit  of  God  forsook  him, 
and  an  evil  spirit  troubled  him."  It  is  probable  that 
we  are  to  understand  by  these  terms,  that  the  immedi- 
ate direction  which  he  was  accustomed  to  rrceive  from 
God  was  withdrawn — 'The  Lord  answered  him  neith- 
er by  prophets  nor  by  dreams: '  that  his  wisdom  and 


283 

prudence  forsook  him:  that  he  was  subject  to  a  wear- 
ing, melancholy  disorder:  that  he  was  given  up  to  his 
evil  passions  and  inclinations;  and  that  a  spirit  of  en- 
vy, hatred,  and  cruelty,  took  place  of  a  spirit  of  up- 
rightness, candor,  and  mercy.  Perhaps  actual  posses- 
sion of  an  evil  spirit,  such  as  those  so  clearly  proved  in 
the  days  of  Christ,  is  to  be  understood.  Josephus  so 
considers  it,  and  describes  its  operations  as  superin- 
ducing a  sensation  of  suffocation,  resembling  those 
emotions  which  the  evangelists  describe  as  attending 
demoniacal  influences:  at  least  a  species  of  madness 
seems  intended.  David  was  early  introduced  at  court 
he  had  previously  been  anointed  king  in  private  in 
place  of  Saul;  and  while  his  amiable  qualities  and  his 
valor  in  vanquishing  Goliah,  drew  upon  him  the  affec- 
tions of  the  people,  they  excited  the  fears,  and  the  ha- 
tred, of  the  jealous  monarch,  who  persecuted  him  even 
to  the  extremities  of  his  kingdom,  and  aimed  at  noth- 
ing less  than  his  destruction.  While  the  father  was 
seeking  the  life  of  this  amiable  young  man,  his  son  was 
attached  to  him  by  the  most  sincere  affection,  and 
"Jonathan  loved  David  as  his  own  soul."  Never  was 
the  influence,  the  delicacy,  the  beauty  of  friendship, 
painted  by  so  masterly  an  hand,  as  that  of  the  sacred 
historian  on  this  occasion.  To  read  it  unmoved,  is  to 
carry  in  one's  bosom  a  rock  of  adamant,  and  not  an 
heart  of  flesh;  and  to  attempt  to  heighten  its  effect, 
would  be  as  futile  and  as  absurd  as  to  think  of  adding 
brighter  and  softer  colors  to  the  radiance,  with  which 
the  pencil  of  nature  paints  the  west  at  sun-set. 

Saul  at  length  fell  in  the  field  of  battle  against  the 
Philistines  at  Gilboa,  and  (O,  the  ravages  of  war!)  in 
the  same  unhappy  conflict,  Jonathan  perished  also.* 

See  note  I,  of  this  Lecture,  at  the  end  of  the  volume. 


224 

It  was  upon  this  melancholy  occasion,  that  his  surviv- 
ing friend  wrote  that  affecting  lamentation,  which  has 
been  the  admiration  of  ages. 

"O  beauty  of  Israel  slain  upon  thy  own  mountains! 
How  are  the  mighty  fallen!  Tell  it  not  in  Gath,  pub- 
lish it  not  in  the  streets  of  Askelon:  lest  the  daughters 
of  the  Philistines  rejoice,  lest  the  daughters  of  the  un- 
circumcised  triumph.  Ye  mountains  of  Gilboa,  on 
you  be  neither  dew,  nor  rain,  nor  fields  affording  obla- 
tions: for  there  the  shield  of  the  mighty  is  vilely  cast 
away,  the  shield  of  Saul,  the  armor  of  the  anointed 
with  oil.t  From  the  blood  of  the  slain,  from  the 
slaughter  of  the  mighty,  the  bow  of  Jonathan  was  not 
withheld,  and  the  sword  of  Saul  never  returned  in 
vain.  Saul  and  Jonathan  were  lovely  and  pleasant  in 
their  lives,  and  in  their  death  they  were  not  divided; 
they  were  swifter  than  eagles,  they  were  stronger  than 
lions.  Ye  daughters  of  Israel,  weep  over  Saul,  who 
clothed  you  in  scarlet  with  delights,  who  put  orna- 
ments of  gold  on  your  apparel.  How  are  the  mighty 
fallen  in  the  midst  of  the  battle!  O  Jonathan,  slain 
upon  thine  own  mountains!  I  am  distressed  for  thee, 
my  brother  Jonathan!  very  pleasant  hast  thou  been 
unto  me!  Thy  love  to  me  was  wonderfull  surpassing 
the  love  of  women!  How  have  the  mighty  fallen! 
How  have  the  weapons  of  war  perished!" 

David  succeeded  to  the  throne  of  his  kingdom,  and 
through  a  period  of  forty  (or  if  you  reckon  from  the 
time  in  which  he  was  anointed,  forty  eight)  years,  he 
resigned  beloved  by  the  people,  and  distinguished  by 
Divine  favor.  Few  characters  discover  so  complete 
a  combination  of  excellence  and  ot  defect  as  that  of 
David.  Ytt.  from  first  to  last,  you  may  trace  the 

|  See  note  2,  of  this  Lertur-,  at  the  end  of  the  volume. 


285 

"man  after  God's  own  heart,"  humble,  contrite,  affec- 
tionate, and  sincere!  Few  reigns  have  discovivcd  great- 
er fluctuations  of  triumph  and  of  affliction.  Amid  the 
glory  to  which  the  Israelites  were  rising  under  his 
rule,  and  the  zei  ith  of  which  they  had  nearly  attain- 
ed, his  life  was  chequered  by  trial.  He  was  surround, 
ed  by  enemies,  and  engaged  in  almost  perpetual  war- 
fare. His  domestic  peace  was  destroyed,  by  the  dis- 
honor of  his  daughter,  and  by  the  slaughter  of  his  son 
who  effected  it.  He  was  driven  from  his  kingdom 
by  the  rebellion  of  Absalom.  A  pestilence  of  three 
days  ravaged  his  empire,  and  destroyed  seventy  thou- 
sand persons.  And  the  last  moments  of  a  turbulent 
life,  were  disturbed,  and  embittered,  by  the  conspira- 
cy of  his  son  Adonijah  against  Solomon,  whom  he 
had  nominated  as  his  successor. 

Before  his  death,  David  had  formed  the  design  of 
building  a  temple  to  God,  which  was  realized  by  Sol- 
omon. He  had  prepared  most  of  the  materials,  had 
drawn  up  the  plan  according  to  Divine  instructions, 
and  left  full  and  clear  directions  to  his  son  respecting 
it.  We  entreat  your  attention,  for  a  few  moments, 
prior  to  our  enlargement  on  this  purpose,  till  we  bring 
down  the  monarchy  to  its  close.  In  the  days  of  Re- 
hoboam,  the  kingdom  of  Israel  was  divided;  and  two 
distinct  lines  of  kings  succeeded  to  the  thrones  of  Ju- 
dah  and  of  Israel.  According  to  the  prediction  of  Ja- 
cob, the  usceptre  did  not  depart  from  Judah,  nor  a 
lawgiver  from  beneath  his  feet,  till  Shiloh  came." 
The  ten  tribes  of  Israel  were  carried  away  captive,  and 
have  not  been  heard  of  from  that  time  to  this  hour: 
but  the  sceptre  remained  with  Judah  to  the  coming  of 
Christ.  In  the  days  of  the  Savior  the  throne  was  fil- 
led by  Herod,  who  held  his  power  under  the  Roman 


286 

emperor;  and  soon  after  the  ascension  of  our  Lord, 
the  city  of  Jerusalem  was  taken,  their  temple  destroy- 
ed, and  they  themselves  dispersed.  From  that  period, 
they  have  wandered  over  the  face  of  the  whole  earth, 
"without  a  king,"  without  a  temple,  "without  an 
ephod,"  without  a  lawgiver,  "without  a  sacrifice," 
and  shall  continue  to  do  so,  till  they  acknowledge 
Messiah  the  prince,  and  say — "Blessed  is  he  that  com- 
eth  in  the  name  of  the  Lord!" 

From  the  days  of  Jesus,  the  kingdom  of  David  has 
been  changed  into  a  spiritual  kingdom — a  kingdom 
not  possessing  worldly  splendor,  neither  supported 
by  temporal  power.  It  has  resisted  every  attack,  it 
has  extended  over  many  nations,  it  must  swallow  up 
every  empire,  it  will  diffuse  itself  wide  as  the  world. 
We  must  contemplate  briefly, 

III.    THE   BUILDING  OF  SOLOMON^   TEMPLE. 

During  the  theocrary,  the  worship  of  God  was  con- 
ducted in  a  moveable  tabernacle,  constructed  after  the 
pattern  drawn  up  by  God  himself,  and  communicated 
to  Moses  in  the  wilderness:  nor  was  any  change  intro- 
duced into  this  mode  of  worship,  till  the  prosperous 
and  glorious  reign  of  Solomon.  Till  the  government 
of  the  Jews  became  an  established  monarchy,  no  ideas 
were  entertained  of  a  national  temple.  It  rested  with 
David  to  form,  with  the  Deity  to  approve,  and  with 
Solomon  to  execute,  this  magnificent  design.  Neither 
labor,  nor  expense,  were  spared,  in  the  erection  of  this 
grand  builJing,  confessedly  the  most  splendid  edifice 
upon  \\h>/li  the  sun  ever  shone.  For  a  minute  delin- 
eation of  tins  stupendous  work,  we  must  refer  you  to 
the  scriptures  themselves;  and  we  have  little  difficulty 
in  confirming  the  fidelity  of  the  sacred  narrative  on  this 


287 

subject.  The  fact  of  the  existence  and  the  grandeur 
of  this  edifice,  is  indisputable.  It  must  have  been 
known,  while  it  was  building,  to  all  the  world;  for 
the  report  of  such  a  design  would  spread  through  all 
nations.  It  was  known  at  Tyre,  because  they  fur- 
nished  workmen  in  the  most  beautiful  and  delicate 
parts  of  the  structure.  It  was  known  to  the  queen  of 
Sheba,  who  came  to  be  an  eye-witness  of  the  wisdom 
and  of  the  glory  of  Solomon.  It  was  known  at  Bab- 
ylon, by  the  report  of  the  armies  of  Nebuchadnezzar. 
"After  Solomon's  temple  was  built,  the  temple  of 
Vulcan  in  Egypt,  and  others  in  different  places,  were 
founded  in  imitation  of  it:  just  as  the  oracles  of  the 
heathens  were  imitations  of  the  divine  communications 
made  to  Israel."*  The  temple  of  Solomon,  erected 
according  to  the  scriptural  account,  must  be  admitted 
as  an  indisputable  fact.  The  glory  of  this  temple  was 
soon  extinguished;  and  after  its  destruction  the  Jews 
built  another,  inferior  to  the  former  in  magnificence: 
which  also  has  sunk  under  the  ravages  of  war,  and 
with  that  whole  dispensation,  has  yielded  to  a  purer, 
yet  less  splendid,  order  of  worship. 

uHowbeit  the  Most  High  dwelleth  not  in  temples 
made  with  hands:"  neither  is  his  presence  confined  to 
a  single  wTorld.  To  the  limited  capacity  of  man,  a 
kingdom  is  a  large  possession,  a  world  is  an  object  of 
infinite  importance.  Could  he  ascend  to  the  next 
planet,  he  would  look  down  upon  it  as  a  shining 
spark,  amid  myriads  of  others,  scattered  through  the 
regions  of  space.  Were  the  presence  of  the  Deity 
confined  to  this  globe,  who  would  renew  the  blunted 
horns  of  the  moon?  Who  would  balance  yonder 
wandering  worlds?  Who  w<ould  supply  the  sun  with 
light?  Who  would  feed  the  everlasting  fires  of  those 

*  Bishop  Watson's  Theological  Tracts,  vol.  v,  p.  27. 


288 

remote  orbs,  the  suns  of  other  worlds,  and  the  centres 
of  others  ystems?  Who  would  diffuse  glory  and  felic- 
ity through  the  heaven  of  heavens?  That  quickening 
presence,  that  powerful  hand,  that  unsearchable  wis- 
dom, that  unwearied  goodness,  that  infinite  Being,  is 
needed  every  where  at  the  same  moment;  is  adored 
through  all  his  works;  is  felt  at  the  same  time  sustain- 
ing the  whole  universe;  and  surely  Hhe  Most  High 
dwelleth  not  in  temples  made  with  hands."  It  re- 
mains that  we  now  corroborate 

IV.    SOME    SUBORDINATE  SCRIPTURE  FACTS, 

— To  which,  however  interesting,  we  cannot  afford  in 
our  plan,  the  labor  and  time  of  a  separate  Lecture; 
and  which  may  with  propriety  be  noticed  here. 

We  have  passed  over  the  book  of  Judges,  because 
it  was  not  immediately  connected  with  the  larger 
events  proposed  for  consideration:  but  the  facts  con- 
tained in  that  instructive  series  of  narration,  are  equally 
authenticated  by  foreign  testimonies.  It  will  be  neces- 
sary also  to  anticipate  some  other  subordinate  facts, 
subsequent  in  point  of  time  to  the  subjects  discussed 
this  evening,  that  the  thread  of  those  which  remain 
may  not  be  broken,  nor  more  serious  and  important 
inquiries  interrupted. 

The  memorial  of  the  actions  of  Gideon  is  preserved 
by  SANCHONIATHON,  a  Tyrian  writer,  who  lived  not 
long  after  him,  and  whose  antiquity  is  attested  by  Por- 
phyry. 

From  the  manner  of  Jepthae's  devoting  his  daughter, 
after  his  victory  over  the  Ammonites,  arose  the  story 
of  the  sacrifice  of  Iphigenia:  it  being  usual  with  thr 
heathens  as  yEuAN  observes,  to  attribute  to  their  later 


289 

heroes,  the  glory  of  the  actions  of  those  who  lived  long 
before.* 

OVID  has  transmitted  to  us  the  account  of  a  feast 
observed  by  the  ancient  Romans  in  April,  the  time  of 
the  Jewish  harvest;  in  which  they  let  loose  foxes  with 
torches  fastened  to  their  tails. f  Can  we  doubt  that 
this  certainly  originated  in  the  history  of  Sampson? 
and  that  it  was  brought  into  Italy  by  the  Phoenicians? 
May  we  not  also  conclude,  that  from  the  treachery 
discovered  in  Delilah's  treatment  of  Sampson,  arose 
the  history  of  Nisus,  and  of  his  unnatural  daughter, 
who  cut  oft'  those  fatal  hairs  from  the  head  of  her 
father,  upon  which  his  victory  and  his  security  de- 
pended?t  The  labors  of  Hercules  appear  to  be  but  an 
imperfect  copy  of  the  prodigious  strength  and  valor 
of  Sampson:  or  at  least,  the  facts  related  of  the  one, 
probably  suggested  the  exploits  fabled  of  the  other. 

Also  in  the  succeeding  histories  of  Israel  and  Jti- 
dah,  some  of  the  more  extraordinary  facts  are  con- 
firmed by  foreign  testimonies. 

The  victory  of  David  over  the  Syrians  of  Zoba, 
on  the  banks  of  the  Euphrates,  is  preserved  by  NICII 
OLAUS  DAMASCENUS. 

There  are  monuments  extant,  which  certify  the 
part  that  Hiram,  king  of  Tyre,  took  in  building  the 
temple  of  Solomon. 


*  Ml    Varijc  Historic,  lib.  v.  cap.  3. 
•f"  Cur  igitur  missse  vinctis  ardentia  txdis 
Terga  ferant  vulpes,  caussa  docenda  mi  hi. 

Ovid.  Fast.  lib.  iv.  /.  681,  {>; 

* Alcathoe,  quam  Nisus  habet;  cui  splendidus  ostra 

liver  honoratos  medio  de  vertice  cauos 
Ciinis  mlixrebat,  magni  fiducia  regni. 

— — Thalamos  taci'iirna  paternos 

Intrat;   et  (heu  facinus!)  fat  all  nata  parentem 
Gtine  suum  spoliat. 

Ovid.  Met  am.  M.  ««V,  /.  8—10,  et  84-1* 

37 


290 

HERODOTUS  records  the  taking  of  Jerusalem  by  the 
king  of  Egvpt,  as  stated  in  the  history  of  Rehoboam's 
reign.  In  the  same  writer  may  be  traced  the  tradi- 
tion of  the  destruction  of  Senacherib's  army,  because 
of  his  blasphemies  against  God:  which  circumstance 
the  Egyptians  disguised,  as  was  common  with  them, 
to  appropriate  it  to  themselves.* 

May  we  not  also  suppose  that  the  story  of  Phaeton 
originated  in  some  imperfect  tradition  of  the  transla- 
tion of  Elijah,  in  a  chariot  of  fire?  It  is  probable  that 
imagination  supplied  the  want  of  evidence,  in  the 
verses  of  the  poets,  and  by  their  alterations  and  addi- 
tions, it  is  easy  to  account  for  the  remoteness  of  their 
fables  from  this  fact,  to  which,  nevertheless,  they  pos- 
sibly bear  a  first  relation.  But  it  is  difficult  to  imag- 
ine from  what  other  source  the  tale  could  arise,  and 
what  other  event  would  afford  materials  for  so  singu- 
lar a  story,  t 

The  history  of  Jonah,  and  the  account  that  he  was 
miraculously  preserved  three  days  and  three  nights  in 
the  bowels  of  the  fish,  has  often  excited  the  ridicule, 
and  employed  the  wit,  of  infidelity:  yet  it  is  not  with- 
out its  support  from  heathen  testimonies.  This  singu- 
lar event  is  related  by  LYCOPJIKON,  and  by  ^ENEAS 
GAZEUS,  with  this  variation  from  the  inspired  writ- 
ings, that  they  call  the  prophet,  Hercules.  Neither 
arc  we,  to  be  surprised  at  this  deviation  from  the  his- 
toric veracity  of  the  Bible:  for  Hercules  was  the  great 
hero  of  the  ancients;  and  Tacitus  himself  acknowledg 
es,  that  to  advance  the  fame  of  this  distinguished  fa- 
vorite, they  do  not  hesitate  to  ascribe  to  him,  whatever 

•  Herod,  lib.  ii.  cap.  141. 

|  ?ec,  on   these    confirmations   of  scrplurul   trull),    Bishop    Wat 
Theological -Tracts,  vol.  i,  p.  355,  356. 


291 

is  extraordinary  or  noble  in  history,  to  whomsoever 
the  real  praise  is  justly  due.  They  plunder  every  other 
celebrated  character  of  all  his  merit,  to  adorn  their 
fabled  hero  with  the  spoils  stolen  from  truth,  and  hon- 
estly belonging  to  others.  ./Eneas  Gazeus,  in  The- 
ophrastus,  uses  these  words — ullercules  was  saved  by 
a  whale  swallowing  him,  when  the  ship  in  which  he 
sailed  was  wrecked."*  How  well  these  circumstances, 
in  their  general  features,  accord  with  the  punishment 
of  Jonah  for  his  disobedience,  and  with  the  fearful 
tempest  which  preceded  it! 

MENANDER  the  historian  confirms,  in  his  acts  of 
Ithobal,  king  of  Tyre,  the  dearth  in  the  days  of  Ahab, 
king  of  Israel,  in  which  Elijah  was  miraculously  pre- 
served by  the  ravens,  and  by  the  widow  of  Zarephath, 
and  says  that  by  supplication  to  God  it  was  followed 
by  ram,  and  by  much  thunder. t 

CYPRIAN,  JULIAN,  and  others,  mention  the  fire 
which  descended  from  heaven  to  consume  the  sacri- 
fice of  Elijah. J 

It  is  unnecessary  farther  to  enlarge  upon  these  sub- 
jects: enough  has  already  been  produced,  to  prove  to 
every  unprejudiced  mind,  that  the  most  trivial  circum- 
stances of  the  sacred  narrative,  even  those  parts  of  it 
which  might  not  be  supposed,  intimately  and  materi- 
ally, to  affect  the  truth  and  the  influence  of  Christiani- 
ty, are  capable  of  demonstration  from  the  traditions 
of  the  heathen  world,  and  from  the  testimony  of  their 
earliest  writers, 

*  SlTTi^  KI.I  Hgsuxs;  xJtTyti,  Si-j.ffi.ytiw  Tt;  vide;  t<$  e;  i7r\i'.t  um  X.VTX;  x.*.Ta.7TsStvat.i  tutt 

Z-'jii.  jEncas  GaZi'-'us   Thfophrasto, 

f  Jos.   Antiq.  Jud.  Tom.  I.  lib.  viii,  cap.  xiii,  p.  576.     Hudson!  edit. 
$  Grot,  dc  Verit.  Rel.  Christ,   lib.  i,  sect,  xvi,  in  not.  U)6.     See  also 
tp  3  of  ri.is  LCCUIJV,  at  th<>  end  of  th.".  volume. 


292 

Brethren,  we  have  led  back  your  attention  to 
splendor  and  magnificence  of  former  times.  Upon  us 
"the  ends  of  the  earth"  are  come.  The  fathers  are- 
assembled  in  the  world  of  spirits,  and  "they  without 
us  cannot  be  made  perfect."  We  have  not  seen 
"Solomon  in  all  his  glory:"  but  "a  greater  than  Solo- 
mon is  here!"  In  all  things  Jesus  has  the  pre  emi- 
nence. Was  Solomon  wise?  Grace  was  poured  upon 
the  Savior's  lips,  and  he  was  fairer  than  the  sons  of 
men!  Was  Solomon  mighty?  "All  power"  is  given 
unto  Jesus  "in  heaven  and  in  earth!"  Was  the  domin- 
ion of  Solomon  extensive,  and  his  reign  peaceful  and 
prosperous?  "The  dominion"  also  of  Jesus  "is  from 
sea  to  sea,  and  from  the  river  to  the  ends  of  the  earth;" 
"and  of  his  kingdom,  and  of  his  peace,  there  is  no  end!" 
Is  the  renown  of  Solomon  immortal?  Of  Jesus  it  is 
written,  "His  name  shall  endure  forever;  his  name 
shall  be  continued  so  long  as  the  sun,  and  men  shall 
be  blessed  in  him:  all  nations  shall  call  him  blessed!" 
We  have  never  beheld  the  magnificence  of  the  temple 
of  Solomon:  but  in  the  kingdom  of  our  spiritual  Solo- 
mon, is  a  temple  not  made  with  hands,  where  the  ar- 
mies of  the  redeemed  are  already  congregated,  and 
wait  our  arrival.  Solomon  was  a  sen  ant.  but  Jesus 
is  a  son — "and  let  the  whole  earth  be  filled  with  hi§ 
glory!  Amen  and  amen." 


LECTURE  XI. 

THE  CAPTIVITIES  OF  ISRAEL  AND  OF  JUDAH, 
The  first  of  these  events  is  recorded  in 

2  KINGS  xvii,  1 — 6. 

In  the  twelfth  year  of  Ahaz  king  ofJudah,  begat* 
Hoshea  the  son  Elah  to  reign  in  Samaria  ovtr  Israel 
nine  years.  And  he  did  that  which  was  evil  in- 
the  sight  of  the  LORD,  but  nof  as  the  kings  of  Israel 
that  were  before  him.  Against  him  came  up  Shal- 
manesw,  king  of  Assyria,  and  Hoshea  became  his 
servant,  and  gave  him  presents.  And  the  king  of 
Assyria  found  conspiracy  in  Hoshea:  for  he  had 
sent  messengers  to  So  king  of  Egypt,  and  brought 
no  present  to  the  king  of  Assyria,  as  he  had  done 
year  by  year:  therefore  the  king  of  Assyria  shut 
him  up,  and  bound  him  in  prison.  Then  the  king 
of  Assyria  came  up  throughout  all  the  land,  and 
went  up  to  Samaria,  and  besieged  it  three  years. 
In  the  ninth  year  of  Hoshea,  the  king  of  Assyria 
took  Samaria,  and  carried  Israel  away  into  Assy- 
ria, and  placed  them  in  Halah,  and  in  Habor  by 
the  river  of  Gozan,  and  in  the  cities  of  the,  Mcdcs. 

The  second  is  preserved  in 

2  CHRON.  xxxvi,  14 — 21. 

Moreover,  all  the  chief  of  the  priests,  and  the  peoplt 
transgressed  very  much,  after  all  the  abomination* 
of  the  heathen,  and  polluted  the  house  of  the 


which  he  had  hallowed  in  Jerusalem.  And  the 
LORD  God  of  their  fathers  sent  to  them  by  his  mes- 
sengers, rising  up  betimes  and  sending;  because  he 
had  compassion  on  his  people,  and  on  Jiis  dwelling- 
place:  But  they  mocked  the  messengers  of  God,  and 
despised  his  words,  and  misused  his  prophets,  until 
the  wrath  of  the  LORD  arose  against  his  people, 
till  there  was  no  remedy.  Therefore  he  brought 
upon  them  the  king  of  the  Clialdees,  who  slew  their 
young  men  with  the  sword,  in  the  house  of  their 
sanctuary,  and  had  no  compassion  upon  young 
man,  or  maiden, or  old  man,  or  him  that  stooped  for 
age:  he  gave  them  all  into  his  hand.  And  all  the 
vessels  of  the  house  of  God,  great  and  smalt,  and 
the  treasures  of  the  house  of  the  LORD,  and  the 
treasures  of  the  king,  and  of  his  princes:  all  these 
he  brought  to  Babylon.  And  they  burned  the  house 
of  God,  and  brake  down  the  wall  of  Jerusalem,  and 
burned  all  the  palaces  thereof  with  fire,  and  de- 
stroyed all  the  goodly  vessels  thereof.  And  them 
that  had  escaped  from  the  sword,  carried  he  away 
to  Babylon:  where  they  were  servants  to  him,  and 
his  sons9  until  the  reign  of  the  kingdom  of  Persia: 
To  fulfil  the  word  of  the  LORD  by  the  mouth  of  Jer- 
emiah, until  the  land  had  enjoyed  her  sabbaths: 
for  as  long  as  she  lay  desolate,  she  kept  sabbath,  to 
fulfil  threescore  and  ten  years. 

THE  history  of  empires  and  of  people  transmitted 
from  generation  to  generation,  what  is  it  but  the  re- 
cord of  the  human  heart?  All  the  scenes  of  horror 
which  have  petrified  the  spectator  in  the  city  and  in 
the  field,  were  drawn  first  in  the  imagination  of  a  de- 
praved spirit,  before  they  were  exhibited  to  the  world. 


295 

We  contemplate  with  dismay  a  conqueror  returning 
from  the  buttle  dyed  in  blood,  and  we  shudder  as  we 
look  upon  the  empurpled  plain:  but  we  carry  within 
us,  all  the  frightful  passions  which'  gave  birth  to  these 
cruelties;  and  in  our  own  bosom,  are  sown,  with  un- 
sparing hand,  the  prolific  seeds,  of  which  these  tears 
and  this  misery  are  the  sad  harvest.  The  most  atro- 
cious acts  of  violence  which  have  disgraced  society, 
were  conceived  in  the  bosom  of  a  fellow-worm,  be- 
fore they  burst  to  light.  The  influence  of  depravity  is 
felt  in  the  world,  but  its  spring  is  within  us;  and  every 
individual  bears  his  proportion  of  the  hidden  plague. 
In  the  existence  of  evil,  and  in  the  pressure  of  calamity 
upon  society,  we  have  the  symptoms  of  it;  the  dis- 
ease itself  is  interwoven  with  our  very  being,  and  lurks 
unseen,  while  it  tyrannizes  unresisted,  in  the  human 
heart.  The  history  of  nations,  therefore,  is  but  the 
history  of  human  nature;  and  it  presents  a  most  af- 
fecting view  of  human  depravity. 

It  is  the  glory  and  the  beauty  of  sacred  history  to 
make  us  acquainted  with  men,  and  to  disclose  to  us 
human  feelings.  No  artificial  strokes  are  used  in  the 
delineation  of  character  in  this  volume.  No  romantic, 
unnatural  circumstances,  are  recorded  as  belonging  to 
the  individual  selected  to  raise  wonder  and  to  lead 
captive  the  fancy:  for  where  miraculous  events  are 
asserted,  we  trace  the  finger  of  God,  and  are  no  lon- 
ger surprised,  and  they  bear  all  the  mark  of  matter  of 
fact,  for  which  some  cause  is  assignable.  No  false 
gloss  varnishes  a  depraved  disposition.  No  unreal 
splendors  dazzle  and  astonish  us.  All  is  natural;  and 
feeling  ourselves  among  our  brethren  in  the  flesh,  cor- 
respondent emotions  spring  up  within  us,  when  we 
perceive  them  agitated  by  grief  or  joy;  and  we  read 


296 

our  own  hearts  while  the  narrative  permits  us  to  look 
into  theirs.     Whether  we  are  overwhelmed   with  the 
perplexities  of  kingdoms,  or  are  occasionally  called  to 
the  field  of  battle;  whether  we  witness  the   slaughter 
of  our  fellow-men,  or  are  involved  in  the  intrigues  and 
policies  of  worldly  courts;  or  whether  we  enter  the 
tranquil  bosom  of  a  family,  and  share  their  domestic 
comforts  and  trials,  and  read  in  these  hallowed  pages 
the  same  scenes  which  pass  before  our  eyes  every  day 
that  we  live;  we  mark,  with  equal  gratification   and 
advantage,  the  developement  of  the  plans   of  Provi- 
dence, in  relation  both  to  public  and  domestic  life; 
and  deduce  from  it  some  inferences  applicable  to   the 
dealings  of  God,  with  us,  as  a  nation,  or  as  individu- 
als.    Who  can  read  the  scriptures   without    feeling 
that  instruction  and  amusement  are  combined?  Pleas- 
ure and  religious  information    intermingle,   and  are 
blended.     The  imagination  is  captivated,  the  heart  is 
wanned,  the  judgment  is  enlightened,  the  spirit  is  re- 
freshed and  invigorated. 

"Let  him  that  thinketh  he  standeth,  take  heed  lest 
lie  fall,"  is  an  admonition  of  unerring  wisdom,  the 
excellence  of  which  is  proved  in  the  blotted  pages  of 
human  apostacy.  We  have  seen  Solomon  building  an 
house  for  God,  enjoying  a  superiority  of  understand- 
ing over  the  whole  human  race,  exulting  in  divine 
intercourse,  crowned  with  riches  and  with  honor,  and 
extending  his  dominion  from  sea  to  sea.  Fair  is  the 
aspect  of  piety,  and  we  hang  over  it,  unwilling  to 
withdraw  our  enchanted  attention  from  it!  The  morn- 
ing of  his  day  was  unusually  bright  and  promising:  the 
noon  became  overcast;  and  in  the  evening  of  his  life, 
his  sun  set  enveloped  with  clouds,  and  shrouded  by 
the  most  gloomy  obscurity.  It^rcquues  more  than 


297 

a  common  measure  of  grace  to  support  uninjured  the 
flatteries  of  prosperity:  Solomon  was  inebriated  with 
them,  and  fell  from  his  exalted  piety  into  folly,  guilt, 
and  consequent  danger.     Who  does  not  weep  to  see 
the  king  of  Israel,  whose  youthful   wisdom  drew  a 
princess  from  her  country  to  try  the  justice  of  his  ce- 
lebrity, bowing  his  hoary  head  to  the  dust  before  a 
dumb  idol,  and  ascribing  to  the  work  of  men's  hands 
the  glory  and  the  worship  due  only  to  God?    Son  of 
the  morning,  how  art  thou  fallen!  The  wisdom  which 
distilled  from  his  lips,  which  "spake  of  trees  from  the 
cedar  tree  that  is  Lebanon,  even  to  the  hyssop  which 
springethout  of  the  wall,"  and  the  penetration  of  which, 
pierced  through  the  secrets  of  nature — O  where  did  it 
slumber,  when  he  forsook  the  Lord  God  of  his  father 
David,  and  "went  after  Ashtoreth,  the  goddess  of  the 
Zidonians,  and  Milcom,  the  abomination  of  the  Am- 
monites?" How  worthless  is  "the  wisdom  of  the  wise,'1 
when  left  to  itself!  and  how  easily  does  the  power  of 
temptation  subdue  the  energies  of  the  heart,  and  en- 
slave the  man,  when  the  assisting  hand  of  Heaven  is 
withdrawn!  The  last  days  of  Solomon  formed  a  sad 
contrast  to  the  lustre  of  his  younger  life.     Blasted  by 
vice,  the  fruits  of  the  autumn  but  ill  answered  the 
promise  of  the  spring.     From  the  moment  of  his  at- 
tachment to  idolatry,  he  passed  over  to  deserved  obliv- 
ion; and  having  reigned  in  Israel  forty  years,  ahe  slept 
with  his  fathers,  and  was  buried  in  the  city  of  David." 
Rehoboam  his  son  succeeded  him,  and  in   his  days 
the  kingdom  was  divided.     Ten  of  the  tribes  of  Israel 
followed  Jeroboam  the  son  of  Nebat,  and  two  only, 
Judah  and  Benjamin,  adhered  to  the  house  of  David. 
This  division  had  been  foretold,  in  the  days  of  golo- 

38 


298 

mon,  by  Ahijah  the  Shilonite.  From  this  period  these 
kingdoms  were  totally  distinct;  and  under  the  titles 
of  Israel  and  Judah,  they  had  a  separate  line  of  kings, 
and  were  even  sometimes  found  at  war  with  each  oth- 
er. It  is  not  our  design  to  enter  into  the  history  of 
the  kingdoms  thus  separated:  but  we  refer  you  to  the 
books  of  the  Kings,  and  of  the  Chronicles;  which 
even  in  the  estimation  of  skepticism,  ought  surely  to 
have  an  equal  degree  of  credit,  with  the  regular  and 
authenticated  records  of  any  other  country.  The  de- 
scendants of  Abraham  thus  divided,  were  punished  by 
bondage  for  their  transgressions,  at  two  different  peri- 
ods, under  different  circumstances,  in  different  places, 
with  different  consequences.  The  object  of  the  pres- 
ent meeting  is,  to  exhibit  and  to  corroborate,  THE  CAP- 
TIVITIES OF  ISRAEL  AND  OF  JUDAH. 

I.  THE  CAPTIVITY  OF  ISRAEL. 

The  bondage  of  the  ten  tribes  took  place  in  the 
ninth  year  of  the  reign  of  Hosea,  king  of  Israel,  in  the 
year  of  world  3585,  and  seven  hundred  and  twenty- 
one  years  before  Christ.  According  to  Josephus  they 
were  removed  out  of  their  country  "nine  hundred  and 
forty-seven  years  after  their  forefathers  were  brought 
out  of  the  land  of  Egypt;  eight  hundred  years  after 
Joshua  had  been  their  leader;  and  two  hundred  and 
forty  years,  seven  months,  and  seven  days,  after  they 
had  revolted  from  llehoboam."*  It  was  begun  in 
the  days  of  Pekah,  king  of  Israel,  and  completed  by 
Siuilmaneser,  king  of  Assyria.  Shalmaneser  took  Sa- 
maria after  a  seige  of  three  years.  Hezekiah  was  at 
that  time  in  the  seventh  year  of  his  reign  over  Judah. 
Hosea  was  taken  alive;  the  government  of  the  Israel- 

•Joseph.  Antiq.  Jud.  lib.  ix.  cap.  14. 


299 

ites  was  completely  overthrown;  the  people  were 
transported  into  Assyria,  Media,  and  Persia,  and  oth- 
er nations,  out  of  Cuthath,  Ava,  Hamath,  and  Sephar- 
vaim,  were  brought  into  Samaria,  and  took  possession 
of  the  country  which  had  belonged  to  Israel.  These 
are  the  Samaritans,  against  whom  the  Jews  bore  par- 
ticular hatred,  and  who  did  not  fail  to  return  it:  for 
when  the  Jews  were  in  prosperity  they  were  willing 
to  be  thought  in  some  way  allied  to  them,  but  in  their 
adversity  always  disowned  them.  And  thus  they 
availed  themselves  of  the  favor  which  Alexander  shew- 
ed the  Jews  when  he  visited  them,  and  professed  to 
descend  from  Ephraim  and  Manasseh,  the  sons  of 
Joseph.*  But  so  rooted  and  so  permanent  was  their 
mutual  enmity,  that  this  opposition  raged  most  furi- 
ously in  the  days  of  our  Lord:  so  that  the  woman  was 
surprised  that  he  "being  a  Jew  should  ask  water  of  her, 
who  was  a  woman  of  Samaria;"  and  it  is  added,  "for 
the  Jews  have  no  dealings  with  the  Samaritans;"  and 
we  find  one  of  their  villages  on  another  occasion,  re- 
fusing to  receive  the  Savior,  "because  his  face  was  as 
though  he  would  go  to  Jerusalem." 

The  ostensible  cause  of  this  captivity  was  as  follows: 
Hoshea,  on  an  invasion  of  Samaria  by  Shalmaneser, 
in  an  early  part  of  his  reign,  had  bought  him  off  by 
presents,  and  declared  himself  to  be  the  servant  of  the 
the  king  of  Assyria.  On  these  humiliating  terms 
Shalmaneser  withdrew  his  armies  from  him,  and  Ho- 
shea was  permitted  to  hold  the  crown  of  Israel  in  sub- 
ordination to  him.  After  this  compact  between  them, 
Hoshea  secretly  conspired  against  him;  and  sending  to 
So,  king  of  Egypt,  for  assistance,  withheld  the  annual 
tribute  to  Assyria,  designing  to  shake  off  the  yoke 

*  See  Joseph.  Amiq.  Jud.lib,  xi»  cap.  3. 


300 

which  Shalmaneser  had  imposed.  This  monarch* 
termed  So,  in  the  words  read  at  the  commencement  of 
this  Lecture,  is  called  Setho  by  Herodotus;  and  is  the 
famous  Sabachon  of  Diodorus  Siculus,  and  of  other 
profane  writers,  who  dethroned  and  murdered  Boc- 
charis,  the  king  of  Egypt,  in  the  beginning  of  the  reign 
of  Hezekiah,  and  seized  upon  the  kingdom.  Shal- 
maneser coming  to  the  knowledge  of  this  conspiracy, 
advanced  with  a  powerful  army  against  Hoshea,  shut 
him  up  in  Samaria,  and  afterwards  took  him,  and  the 
Israelites,  captive. 

Of  the  existence,  and  the  enterprising  disposition  of 
Shalmaneser,  we  have  the  evidence  of  Menander  the 
historian,  when  he  wrote  his  chronology,  and  translat- 
ed the  Tyrian  Chronicles  into  the  Greek  language. 
This  is  his  testimony,  preserved  by  Josephus — "Eluleus 
reigned  thirty-six  years.  This  monarch,  upon  the  re- 
volt of  the  Citteans,  sailed  against,  and  reduced  them. 
Against  these  did  the  king  of  Assyria  (Shalmaneser) 
send  an  army,  and  invaded  all  Phenicia.  At  length 
he  made  peace  with  them  and  returned.  But  Sidon, 
Ace,  Palatyrus,  and  several  other  cities,  revolted  from 
the  Tyrians,  and  surrendered  themselves  to  the  king 
of  Assyria.  Now  when  the  Tyrians  refused  to  sub- 
mit to  him,  he  renewed  the  contest;  and  the  Pheni- 
cians  furnished  him  with  sixty  ships  and  eight  hundred 
rowers.  The  Tyrians  opposed  him  with  twelve  ships, 
dispersed  his  armament,  and  took  live  hundred  mm 
prisoners  lie  renewed  the  struggle,  however,  and 
placed  a  garrison  over  their  rivers  and  aqueducts,  to 
prevent  them  fnnn  drawing  water;  dining  which  peri- 
od the  Tyrians  sustained  the  s'u-e,  and  drank  the  wa- 
ters of  the  wells  which  they  di-<  d  upon  this  emcr- 


301 

gency."*  This  testimony  is  produced  to  shew  that 
profane  historians  confirm  the  character  which  the 
scriptures  give  of  Shalmaneser;  and  it  decidedly 
proves  that  he  was  formidable  to  all  his  neighbors. 

Who  can  read  these  narrations  of  blood  shed  with- 
out deploring  the  evil  of  falling  into  the  hands  of  an 
unprincipled  tyrant?  The  designs  of  God  against  Is- 
rael did  not  clear  Shalmaneser  from  guilt.      He    was 
an  instrument  to  bring  about  the  purposes  of  Deity 
without  his  concurrence,  and  even  without  his  knowl- 
edge.    He  meant  only  to  satiate   his  ambition  at  the 
expense  of  the  fortunes,  the  liberties,  and  the  lives  of 
his  contemporaries;  and  his  treatment  of  other  nations, 
unconnected    with  the    Israelites,    demonstrates    too 
clearly  the  tyranny  of  his  disposition.     The  history 
of  man  furnishes  us  with  many  a  lamentable  evidence, 
that  he  is  not  to  be  trusted  with  absolute  power,  that 
he  grows  intoxicated  with  it,  and  that   possessing  it, 
he  plunges  either  himself  or  others  into  an  abyss  of 
ruin  and  misery.     In   proportion  as  he  is  furnished 
with  the  means  to  effect  much,  he  does    mischief;   as 
those  beasts  of  the  forest  are  most  to  be  dreaded,  which 
have  the  most  strength  united   with  their  sanguinary 
dispositions.     Where  much  power  is  possessed,  much 
good  might  be  done.     How  many  thousands  of  hearts 
might  one  man  make  happy!  He  might  suppress  the  vic- 
ious, and  strengthen  the  weak  ,and  comfort  the  sorrow- 
ful: he  might  be  as  God,  dispensing  peace,  and  joy,  and 
order,  around  him  in  society.     But,  alas!  he  no  soon- 
er feels  his  exaltation  than  he  grows  giddy  with  it! 
He  no  longer  recollects  that  he  is  himself  a  man.  in 
the  midst  of  those  who  are  "bone  of  his  bone  and  flesh 

*Menand.  npud.  Joseph-  Antiq  lib.  'it,,  chap.  14, 


302 

of  his  flesh."  Half  the  world  must  worship  him:  and 
the  other  half,  who  will  not,  must  be  visited  with  "a 
rod  of  iron."  He  values  not  the  soul  of  his  brother: 
he  cares  not  how  many  lives  he  expends  to  gratify  his 
ambition,  his  hatred,  or  his  passions.  Society  groans 
under  his  tyranny,  and  the  world  is  turned  into  a  field 
of  blood.  See  yonder  unjust  man,  whose  character 
will  be  read  in  his  history  before  we  close  this  Lecture, 
setting  up  an  image  of  gold,  and  commanding  on  pain 
of  death  a  whole  empire  to  worship  it:  What  gave 
birth  to  this  extravagance?  The  intoxication  of  power  I 
And  are  his  threats  merely  the  language  of  caprice  and 
anger?  No!  but  yonder  are  three  men  dragged  to  the 
fire  to  be  burned,  because  they  refuse  to  comply  with 
a  command,  from  which  their  religion,  their  conscience, 
and  every  thing  which  they  ought  to  hold  most  dear, 
revolt.  That  man  might  be  a  sun  to  quicken,  to  warm, 
and  to  illumine:  but  he  is  a  meteor  that  scorches,  ter- 
rifies, and  blights,  whatever,  falls  under  his  baneful  in- 
fluence. 

How  different  is  the  character  of  the  Deity!  When 
I  appear  before  a  great  man,  his  object  often  is  to  daz- 
zle and  to  overwhelm  me.  He  is  anxious  only  that  I 
should  feel  his  greatness  and  my  own  inferiority. 
He  clothes  himself  with  all  his  power,  and  enjoys  my 
embarrassment.  No  matter  whether  millions  of  peo- 
ple are  made  unhappy  by  his  pride:  he  is  careless 
whether  he  is  loved,  so  that  he  is  but  feared.  I  turn 
away  with  horror  and  disgust  from  a  man  whose 
breath  is  in  his  nostrils,  living  but  to  confound  and  to 
torment,  to  HIM  in  whom  all  majesty  and  might  cen- 
tre— and  there  I  lose  my  "apprehensions!^  He,  who 
rules  above  all,  in  the  plenitude  of  power,  who  is  King 
ef  kings,  and  Lord  of  lords,  blends  with  infinite 


303 

strength,  illimitable  compassion.  The  spirit  that  shrinks 
with  dismay  from  the  frowning,  forbiding  aspect,  of 
an  imperious  fellow- worm,  is  invited  to  the  feet  of  his 
Creator,  not  more  by  the  mild  and  affectionate  lan- 
guage of  scripture,  than  by  the  experience  which  he 
has  had  of  his  gracious  character,  in  the  mercies  which 
he  has  personally  received  at  his  hand.  His  majesty 
astonishes,  but  does  not  confound.  His  glory  dazzles, 
but  does  not  consume.  His  power  fills  the  mind  with 
awe,  but  does  not  overwhelm  it  with  terror.  Ah, 
David  was  right,  when,  in  his  great  strait,  he  preferred 
falling  into  the  hands  of  God,  rather  than  into  the 
hands  of  man;  and  the  history  of  this  night  proves  his 
wisdom.  Yet  did  the  Israelites  choose  a  man  before 
God,  and  elevated  a  creature  to  the  throne  previously 
filled  only  by  the  Creator! 

The  most  remarkable  circumstance  attending  the 
captivity  of  Israel,  is  THE  LOSS  OF  THE  TEN  TRIBES. 
We  hear  nothing  more  concerning  them,  excepting  a 
few  who  returned  with  Judah  and  Benjamin  from  the 
Babylonish  captivity;  and  the  general  opinion  res- 
pecting them  is,  that  they  were  absorbed  in  the  na- 
tions among  whom  they  were  dispersed.  Of  this 
opinion  are  Josephus  and  St.  Jerome.  Others  object 
that  their  return  from  captivity  appears  to  be  plainly 
pointed  out  by  Amos,  and  by  Hosea.  "I  will  bring 
again  the  captivity  of  my  peopb  of  Israel,  and  they 
shall  build  the  waste  cities,  and  inhabit  them;  and 
they  shall  plant  vineyards,  and  drink  the  wine  thereof; 
they  shall  also  make  gardens,  and  eat  the  fruit  of 
them.  And  I  will  plant  them  upon  their  land,  and 
they  shall  be  no  more  pulled  up  out  of  the  land  which 
I  have  given  them,  saith  the  LORD  thy  God.r*  Hosea 

*  Amos  ix,  14.  15. 


304 

also  says,  "Then  shall  the  children  of  Judah,  and  the 
children  of  Israel  be  gathered  together,  and  appoint 
themselves  one  head,  and  they  shall  come  up  out  of 
the  land;  for  great  shall  be  the  day  of  Jezreel."*  The 
first  of  these  prophecies  relates  to  the  rearing  of  the 
tabernacle  "of  David,"  which  surely  was  done  by 
Judah  and  Benjamin,  and  appears  more  decidedly  to 
refer  to  them,  since  the  ten  tribes  had  disavowed  any 
connexion  with  the  house  of  David  at  the  time  of 
their  separation.  Upon  the  answer  returned  by  Re- 
hoboam,  they  replied  to  the  king,  "what  portion  have 
we  in  David?  Neither  have  we  inheritance  in  the  son 
of  Jesse!  To  your  tents,  O  Israel!  Now  see  to  thine 
own  house,  David!"t  In  the  second,  I  confess,  Judah 
and  Israel  are  mentioned  separately,  yet  conjointly, 
because  of  the  co-operation  ascribed  to  them.  May 
we  not  suppose  this  prediction  fulfilled  in  the  return 
of  the  Levites,  the  remnant  of  Israel,  who  were  brought 
from  Babylon  with  the  men  of  Judah  and  of  Benja- 
min? Who  united  with  them  under  one  leader,  and 
who  assisted  them  in  building  the  wall  of  Jerusalem? 
We  leave  the  question  to  the  decision  of  your  own 
judgments.  Indeed  it  does  not  immediately  come  be- 
fore us  as  a  subject  of  discussion;  our  professed  object 
being  simply  to  confirm  the  fact  of  the  two  captivities, 
and  to  relate  the  circumstances  attending  them.  There 
is  no  record  of  their  return,  there  are  no  traces  of  their 
tribes,  there  is  no  evidence  of  their  existence.  Those 
who  maintain  that  they  are  yet  in  being,  advance  on- 
ly an  hypothesis  incapable  of  demonstration;  and  the 
most  general  conclusion  upon  the  subject  is,  we  be- 
lieve, that  they  are  wholly  lost. 

5,  11.    t  i  1  King's  xii,  16. 


306 

The  inferences  which  we  deduce  from  this  position 
are  these:  MH| 

1.  That  the  coming  of  the  Messiah  was  the  grand 
object  of  the  Old  Testament  dispensation,  and   that 
the  peculiarities  of  the  Jews  bore  a  manifest  relation 
to  him.     To  decide  this,  it  is  only   necessary  to  ob- 
serve, that  from  the  time  of  the  promise  made  to  Adam, 
the  Savior  was  the  subject  of  all  the  engagements  be- 
tween God  and  man.     The  study  of  genealogies,  and 
the  strictness  with  which  they  were  commanded  to  be 
kept,  were  enjoined,  we  may  presume,  that  they  might 
trace  with  certainty  and  decision,  the  line  of  the  Mes- 
siah.    The  ceremonies  of  the  Jewish  religion  were  evi- 
dently types  of  something:  as  they  were  expressly  in- 
stituted by  God,  it  must  follow  that  the  antitype  should 
be  sublime,  that  these  rites  might  be  worthy   their^ 
great  Founder:  and  no    meaning  can  be  affixed  to 
them,  unless  they  be  allowed  to  refer  to  the  life,  the 
sufferings,  and  the  atonement  of  the  Lord  Jesus.    The 
prophecies  at  that  early  period,  looked  forwards  to  the 
Savior:  and  they  increased  in  clearness  and  in  copi- 
ousness, as  they  approached  the  advent  of  the  Messi- 
ah.   The  separation  of  the  Jews  from  all  other  na- 
tions, was  founded,  we  conceive,  upon  this  same  prin- 

f  :'>!e.     Hence  we  infer 

2.  That  the  very  existence  of  the  Jews  depended 
upon  their  connexion  with  the  Savior.     Till  the  days 
of  David  the  promises  respecting  the  Messiah  were  of 
general  inajport,  that  he  should  descend  from  Abra- 
ham.  But  £hen  they  became  more  explicit,  and  it  was 
declared  that  Christ  should  be  of  the  house  of  David. 
To  the  family  of  David,  therefore,  the  promise  was 
restricted.     So  long  as  they  adhered   to,  and   were 
•connected  with,  the  house  of  David,  which  was  also 


307 

the  house  of  Jesus,  they  were  separated  with  their 
brethren  from   the  rest  of  mankind,  and  their  exist- 
ence was  secured:  but  when  they  voluntarily  resigned 
their  interest  in  that  house,  and  were  severed  from  the 
two  tribes,  they  were  dispersed  and  absorbed  among 
the  nations,  and  the  few  who  returned  from  captivity 
lost  their  distinction:  they  returned  with  Judah  and 
Benjamin,  and  were  swallowed  up  of  their  brethren. 
Now  it  is  remarkable  that  individuals  were  supported 
in  the  same  way.     Lot,  so  long  as  he  stands  in  union 
with  Abraham,  who  was  inseparably  connected  with 
the  Messiah,  is  an  object  of  importance:  but  once  di- 
vided from  him,  we  read  little  of  him  afterwards,  and 
at  length  he  totally  vanishes  out  of  our  sight.     Judah 
and  Benjamin,  who  were  of  the  house  of  David,  were 
also  led  into  captivity:  but  they  were  restored,  because 
of  their  connexion  with  the  Messiah:  while  Israel,  hav- 
ing become  separated   from  this  great  interest,  were 
scattered  and  lost.     These  observations  will  not,  we 
trust,  be  deemed  altogether  unimportant;  as  they  prove 
the  unity  of  the  scriptures,  and  the  connexion  between 
the  Old  and  the  New  Testaments.    But  we  hasten  to 
fix  your  attention  upon 

II.    THE  CAPTIVITY  OF  JUDAII. 

This  captivity  was  commenced  by  Nebuchadnezzar, 
and  completed  by  his  general,  Nebuzaradan.  The 
interval  between  the  first  desolation  of  Jerusalem  by 
the  king  of  Babylon,  and  its  total  overthrow  by  his 
int,  was  about  twenty -two  years.  It  was  begun 
in  the  reign  of  Jdioiakim,  six  hundred  and  six  years 
before  the  coming  of  Christ.  Nebuchadnezzar  took 
the  city  in  the  ninth  month,  culled  Casleu,  which  an- 
swers to  our  November,  and  on  the  twelfth  day  of 


307 

the  month:  which  the  Jews  keep  as  an  annual  fast  in 
commemoration  of  this  event  to  this  day.*  Among 
the  number  of  captives  taken  from  Jerusalem,  were 
Daniel,  Hananiah,  Misbael,  and  Azariah:  whom  the 
Babylonians  called,  Belteshazzar,  Shadrach,  Meshach, 
and  Abed  nego.  The  interval  between  the  commence- 
ment, and  the  consummation,  of  the  destruction  of 
Jerusalem,  is  crowded  with  important  transactions,  a 
few  of  which  it  may  be  necessary  to  mention. 

The  reading  of  the  roll  before  Jehoiakim,  who  was 
not  rendered  sensible  of  his  wickedness  by  the  first 
desolation  of  his  country,  excited  the  most  infuriate 
emotions,  and  having  first  cut  it  in  pieces  with  his  own 
hand,  he  threw  it  into  the  fire.  The  Jews  keep  also 
the  twenty- ninth  day  of  Casleu  a  fast,  in  remembrance 
of  the  impiety  of  the  monarch,  by  whom  this  import- 
ant writing  was  consumed. 

lithe  seventh  year  of  Jehoiakim,  and  the  second 
after  Lie  death  of  the  father  of  Nebuchadnezzar,  Dan- 
iel explained  the  first  vision  of  the  king  of  Babylon, 
which  elevated  him  to  the  highest  dignities  of  the 
empire. 

The  other  events  recorded  in  the  book  of  Daniel,  to 
the  expulsion  of  Nebuchadnezzar  from  society,  fol- 
lowed in  the  order  in  which  they  are  there  narrated, 
and  conduct  us  to  the  total  overthrow  of  Jerusalem 
by  Nebuzaradan,  in  the  reign  of  Zedekiah:  which 
was  accompanied  with  the  m  ;st  horrible  circumstan- 
ces of  rigor  and  cruelty,  The  temple  was  spoiled  of 
all  its  riches  and  furniture,  and  was  burned,  together 
with  the  royal  palace.  The  slaughter  was  dreadful: 
the  city  was  totally  dismantled:  and  the  whole  of  its 

*  Sec  Prideaux's  Connec.  vol.  i,  b.  1.  Anc.  Univ.  Hist.  vol.  iv,  b.  1,  c,  7 
note  O.     Usher  sub,  A.  M.  3597. 


308 

inhabitants,  who  escaped  the  sword,  were  led  into  cap- 
tivity. This  event  took  place  in  the  year  of  the  world 
3718,  five  hundred  and  eighty-eight  years  before 
Christ,  and  one  hundred  and  thirty-four  years  after 
the  destruction  of  the  kingdom  of  Israel,  and  the  cap- 
tivity of  the  ten  tribes. 

Nebuchadnezzar  having  at  length  sheathed  the 
sword,  applied  himself  to  the  completion  of  his  works 
at  Babylon.  As  it  will  be  necessary  to  relate  the  siege 
of  this  city  by  Cyrus,  which  terminated  the  captivity 
of  Judah,  it  will  be  proper  previously  to  give  a  short 
description  of  this  wonderful  place.  The  city  stood 
upon  an  immense  plain,  and  formed  a  complete  square. 
The  most  remarkable  works  in,  and  about  it,  were  the 
walls,  the  temple,  the  palace,  the  bridge,  and  the  banks 
of  the  river,  and  the  canals  for  draining  it. 

1.  THE  WALLS.  They  were  in  thickness  eighty - 
seven  feet:  in  height  three  hundred  and  fifty:  in  com- 
pass four  hundred  and  eighty  furlongs,  or  about  sixty 
miles.  This  is  the  account  given  by  Herodotus,  the 
most  ancient  writer  upon  this  subject,  who  was  him- 
self at  Babylon.  Each  side  of  the  city  was  defended 
by  a  wall  fifteen  miles  in  length.  These  walls  were 
built  of  bricks,  cemented  with  bitumen,  a  glutinous 
slime,  resembling  pitch,  found  in  abundance  in  that 
country,  which  binds  together  much  more  firmly  than 
lime,  and  in  time  becomes  harder  than  the  bricks  or 
stones  themselves.  They  were  surrounded  by  a  vast 
moat  filled  with  water.  On  every  side  of  this  mi- 
ni esc  square  were  twenty-five  gates,  amounting  in  all 
to  one  hundred,  and  as  many  bridges  were  thrown 
across  the  moat  which  encircled  the  city.  These 
gates  were  all  made  of  solid  brass:  and  for  this  reason, 
when  God  promised  to  Cyrus  the  conquest  of  Baby- 


309 

Ion,  he  said,  that  he  would  "break  before  him,  tht 
gates  of  brass"  At  proper  intervals  towers  weic 
erected  all  along  the  walls,  each  of  them  about  ten 
feet  higher  than  the  walls  themselves.  It  seems,  how- 
ever, that  this  is  to  be  understood  only  of  those  parts 
of  the  walls  where  towers  were  needful  for  defence: 
when  three  towers  were  between  every  two  of  the 
gates,  and  four  at  the  four  corners:  but  some  parts  of 
the  walls  being  upon  a  morass  and  inaccessible  to  an 
enemy,  were  not  thus  defended:  and  the  whole  num- 
ber of  the  towers  were  two  hundred  and  fifty.  This 
economy  destroying  the  symmetry  of  the  city,  the  de- 
ficiency was  afterwards  supplied  by  Nitocris.*  From 
the  twenty-five  gates  on  each  side  of  the  city  were 
twenty-five  streets  extending  in  a  straight  line  to  the 
corresponding  gates  on  the  opposite  side,  directly  in- 
tersecting each  other  at  right  angles:  so  that  there  were 
fifty  streets,  each  of  them  fifteen  miles  long,  dividing 
the  whole  city  into  six  hundred  and  seventy-six  squares, 
each  square  two  miles  and  a  quarter  in  circumference. 
The  ground  enclosed  within  these  squares,  was  formed 
into  gardens. 
The  next  objects  worthy  attention  were, 

2.   THE   BRIDGE,     AND    THE    BANKS    OF    THE     RIVER. 

A  branch  of  the  Euphrates  ran  through  the  centre  of 
the  city  from  north  to  south.  On  each  side  of  the 
river  were  a  quay,  and  an  high  wall  built  of  brick  and 
of  bitumen,  of  the  same  thickness  with  the  walls 
which  surrounded  the  city.  In  these  walls,  over 
against  every  street  that  led  to  the  river,  were  also 
gates  of  brass,  and  from  them  were  descents  by  steps  to 
the  river.  These  brazen  gates  were  always  open  in 

*  Anc.  Un'.v.  Hist.  vol.  iv,  b,  1,  c.  9,  p.  408  and  434.  Dublin  edition  174 J, 
20  vol. 


310 

the  day,  and  shut  by  night.  The  bridge  thrown  over 
it  in  the  middle  of  the  city,  was  a  magnificent  structure, 
a  furlong  in  length,  and  thirty  feet  in  breadth.  Nor 
must  we  omit 

3.  THE  CANALS  for  draining  the  river.  In  the  be- 
ginning of  the  summer,  the  sun  melting  the  snows  on 
the  mountains  of  Armenia,  a  vast  overflow  of  the  Eu- 
phrates takes  place  in  the  months  of  June,  July,  and 
August.  To  prevent  any  damage  to  the  city  and  its 
inhabitants,  at  a  considerable  distance  above  the  town, 
were  cut  two  artificial  canals,  which  turned  the  course 
of  the  waters  into  the  Tigris  before  they  reached  Bab- 
ylon. For  additional  security,  two  immense  banks 
were  raised  on  each  side  of  the  river.  In  order  to  form 
these  mounds  it  was  necessary  to  drain  off  the  water; 
which  was  done  by  digging  a  prodigious  lake  forty 
miles  square,  one  hundred  and  sixty  in  circumference, 
and  thirty-five  feet  deep. 

These  are  the  wonders  recorded  by  ancient  writers, 
concerning  Babylon;  and  which  almost  exceed  credi- 
bility, were  it  not  that  their  testimony  on  this  subject 
perfectly  coincides  with  itself.  Berosus,  Magasthenes, 
and  Abydenus,  agree  in  ascribing  these  works  to 
Nebuchadnezzar.* 

4.  THE  PALACE,  THE  HANGING  GARDENS,  AND  THE 
TEMPLE,  were  respectively  splendid  anJ  magnificent: 
but  as  they  are  not  necessary  to  our  subject,  we  wave 
a  description  of  them.  It  is  agreed  by  most  historians, 
that  the  temple  of  Belus  was  built  on  Ihr  prin  of  the 
tower  of  Babel,  and  is  by  some  supposed  to  be  erected 
on  its  ruins.  Josrphus  says,  that  Babylon  took  its  name 

*  For  this,  and  a  more  cnlnrgrV;  nrroMTit  of  H.'ilnion,  scr-  Roll'm's  Anr. 
Hist.  vol.  i,  p.  13S,  k.r.  Anr.  !  Y.iv.  Hist.  vol.  iv,  I).  J,  r.  9.  l 

j,  pt  i,  i>.  •  •          |  •.,.,,,!    1.  it  ,-.  t7<<. 


311 

from  Babel,  a  word  implying  confusion,  in  commemo 
ration  of  the  confusion  of  language,  and  the  dispersion 
of  the  people  *  Tliis  temple  was  higher  than  the  high- 
est pyramid  of  Egypt. t  From  the  situation  of  Babylon, 
in  a  clear  atmosphere,  and  a  serene  sky,  together  with 
the  advantage  of  this  immense  elevation,  arose  the  su- 
periority of  Chaldeans  in  astronomical  studies.  The 
description  of  this  immense  city,  which  has  now  been 
submitted  to  you,  was  necessary  that  you  may  under- 
stand the  nature  of  those  operations  adopted  by  Cyrus 
in  obtaining  possession  of  it. 

We  are  not  to  wonder  that  the  heart  of  Nebuchad- 
nezzar, the  resistless  conqueror,  and  the  lord  of  Baby- 
lon, was  inflated  with  pride.  Where  there  is  not  a 
principle  of  religion  to  counteract  the  influence  of  hu- 
man depravity,  the  power  of  a  lofty  spirit  admits  of  no 
restraint.  But  "pride  is  nigh  unto  destruction;  and  an 
haughty  spirit  goeth  before  a  fail.'7  Nebuchadnezzar 
ascribed  to  the  power  of  his  own  arm,  the  glory  and 
the  majesty  of  his  kingdom,  and  the  Deity  punished 
him,  by  driving  him  from  human  society.  He  would 
be  a  god,  and  he  became  less  than  a  man!*  His  humil- 
iation had  been  predicted  in  a  vision,  explained  to  him 
by  the  prophet  Daniel,  a  year  before  it  took  place.§ 
The  five  following  considerations  may  perhaps  tend  to 
confirm  this  event,  as  an  historical  fact. 

1.  It  is  circumstantially  related  in  a  decree  which 
Nebuchadnezzar  issued  upon  his  restoration  to  his 
kingdom:  which  decree  must  have  existed  at  the  very 
time  when  the  scriptural  account  was  written;  admit- 

*  Josephus  de  Antiq.  Jud.  Tom.  I, lib.  i,  car>-  4.       Hudson!  edit. 

f  For  a  general  description  of  it,  bee  Anc.  Univ.  Hist,  vol  ;i.  b.  i,  c.  9, 
and  vol.  i,  b.  i,  c,  2.  See  also  note  3,  of  Uiis  Lecture,  at  the  end  of  the 
volume. 

t  Dan.  IT,  29—33.  §  Dan-iv,  4,  &•;. 


312 

ting  (which  we  may  reasonably  claim)  that  the  event 
was  recorded  at  the  time  which  it  asserts,  and  possesses 
the  antiquity  ascribed  to  the  book  of  Daniel:  there- 
fore imposition  was  impossible,  and  the  attempt  among 
contemporaries,  would  only  have  exposed  the  writer 
to  derision.  It  is  not  the  relation  of  a  transaction  pre- 
vious to  his  birth,  which  Daniel  has  written,  but  he 
was  an  eye-witness  of  the  circumstance,  an  actor  in 
the  scene,  and  the  whole  Jewish  nation,  as  well  as  the 
Babylonish  empire,  were  concerned  in  it. 

2.  Scaliger,  thinks  that  this  madness  of  Nebuchad- 
nezzar is  obscurely  hinted  in  a  fragment  of  Abydenus, 
preserved  by  Eusebius* — wherein  having,  from  the  tes- 
timony of  the  Chaldean  writers,  represented  the  king 
to  have  fallen  into  an  ecstacy,  and  to  have  foretold  the 
destruction  of  that  empire  by  the  Medes  and  Persians, 
he  adds — "immediately  after  uttering  this  prophecy, 
he  disappeared,"  which  Scaliger  supposes  refers  to  the 
deposition  of  his  kingly  authority,  and  to  his  exclusion 
from  society. 

3.  Herodotus  speaks  of  his  pride,  and  of  his  defi- 
ance even  of  Divine  power,  in  much  ;he  same  terms  as 
those  used  by  the   inspired  writer.     He  says — usuch 
was  his  loftiness  and  presumption,  that  he  boasted,  it 
was  not  in  the  power  of  God  himself  to  dispossess  him 
of  his  kingdom,  so  securely  did  he  deem  himself  es- 
tablished in  it."f 

4.  Josephus  asserts  this  event:  and  amid  all  his  nu- 
merous opposers,  and  their  diversified  objections,  the 
relation  of  this  fact  by  him  was  never  disputed.'1;}: 

5.  By  Ptolemy's  canon,  a  contemporary  record, 
Nebuchadnezzar  is  said   to  have  reigned  forty-three 

•  Euseb.  Prxp.  Evanp.  lib.  ix,  cap.  41.          f  Herod,  lib.  2. 
*  Joseph,  de  Anliq.  Judeor.  Tom.  I,  lib.  x»  cap.  10. 


313 

years,  eight  of  which  are  passed  over  in  silence.  His 
actions,  as  recounted  both  by  sacred  and  profane  his- 
torians, are  so  remarkable,  and  his  spirit  so  enterprising, 
that  it  can  scarcely  be  imagined  that  he  should  be  in- 
active during  eight  years,  or  that  his  achievements  in 
that  period  should  be  buried  in  oblivion.  The  conclu- 
sion is  in  favor  of  the  record  of  Daniel,  that  he  was 
excluded  from  society,  for  seven  years,  till  he  learned 
to  acknowledge  the  hand  which  had  made  him  great, 
and  to  ascribe  all  power  to  God.*  Of  the  reign  and 
the  works  of  Nebuchadnezzar,  Josephus  has  preserved 
the  testimonies  of  Berosus,  Megasthenes,  Diocles,  and 
Pliilostratus. 

BEROSUS,  in  the  third  book  of  his  Chaldaic  histories 
says — that  "his  father  died  at  Babylon  after  having 
reigned  twenty-one  years:  that  Nebuchadnezzar  was 
at  that  time  absent  in  Egypt,  but  having  received  the 
intelligence  of  his  father's  death,  he  arranged  his  affairs 
abr  >ad,  and  committing  the  care  and  transportation 
of  the  Jews,  Syrians,  Egyptians,  and  Phenicians,  to 
his  friends,  to  follow  him  with  his  army  and  carriages 
to  Babylon,  he  himself  with  a  few  men  hastened  thith- 
er, and  took  upon  himself  the  government  of  the  em- 
pire." Again  he  adds,  "with  the  spoils  of  war,  he  most 
magnificently  decorated  the  temple  of  Belus — he  en- 
larged the  old  city — built  within  it  a  triple  wall — erect- 
ed a  magnificent  palace" — and  so  he  goes  on  to  speak 
of  the  hanging  gardens,  and  of  his  other  operations. 
"MEGASTHENES,  in  the  fourth  book  of  his  Indian  his- 
tory, mentions  this  garden,  and  asserts  that  Nebuchad- 
nezzar surpassed  Hercules  in  valor,  and  in  the  great- 
ness of  his  exploits."  DIOCLES  in  the  second  book  of 

*  See  Prideaux's  Connec.  vol.  i,  b.  1,  in  locum. 

40 


314 

the  Persian  history  ,'and  PHILOSTRATUS,  in  his  history  "of 
India  and  Phenicia,  say  that  he  besieged  Tyre  thirteen 
years,  and  took  it  in  the  reign  of  Ithobal."* 

To  Nebuchadnezzar  succeeded  Evil-Merodach,  who 
set  Jechoniah  at  liberty  and  made  him  one  of  his 
friends.  After  a  reign  of  vice  and  folly  of  two  years, 
he  was  slain  by  the  conspiracy  of  his  own  family. 

To  him  succeeded  Neriglasser,  who  reigned  only 
four  years,  and  was  slain  in  a  battle  against  Cyrus. 

To  him  succeeded  Bdshazzar,  with  whose  life  the 
Babylonish  captivity  terminated.  Cyrus,  conducted  by 
an  invisible  hand,  advanced  gradually  towards  Baby- 
lon, and  closely  besieged  it:  while  Belshazzar,  or  rather 
Nitocris  the  queen  mother  (for  the  character  of  Bel- 
shazzar by  all  profane  historians  is,  that  he  was  wholly 
addicted  to  sensual  pleasures,  which  is  abundantly  con- 
firmed by  the  scriptural  account)  as  strenuously  forti- 
fied, and  defended  it.  This  conquerer  surrounded  the 
city  with  his  army:  but  the  king  of  Babylon  presum- 
ing upon  its  impregnable  strength,  and  upon  the  maga- 
zine of  provisions,  which,  without  any  fresh  supplies, 
less  than  a  ten  years  siege  could  not  exhaust,  derided 
the  efforts  of  his  powerful  adversary.  In  the  mean  time 
the  besiegers  encompassed  the  city  with  a  deep  trench, 
keeping  their  purposes  a  profound  secret;  and  Cyrus  was 
informed  of  the  feast  which  was  about  to  be  held  in 
Babylon.  Upon  this  night  he  determined  to  suspend 
the  fates  of  his  army,  and  of  the  empire  for  which  he 
fought.  On  this  occasion  of  festivity,  Belshaz/ar,  with 
a  bold  impiety  at  which  his  predecessors,  proud  and 
daring  as  they  were,  would  have  shuddered,  profan- 
ed the  vessels  of  the  temple  of  Jehovah.  The  appari- 

•  Joipph.  de  Antiq.  Jud.  Tom.  i,  lib.  x,  cap.  11.       Hudson!  edit. 


315 

tion  of  an  band  writing  on  the  wall  of  the  palace  m 
unknown  characters  first  excited  the  apprehensions  of 
the  king.  In  vain  he  called  the  astrologers  and  the 
magicians:  in  vain  he  alternately  threatened  and  en* 
treated  them:  they  could  neither  read  the  writing,  nor 
make  known  the  interpretation.  The  sentence  was 
written  in  Samaritan  characters  which  the  Chaldeans 
did  not  understand;  and  could  they  have  decyphered 
these,  they  could  not  have  explained  them.  The  words 
literally  rendered  are,  aHe  hath  numhered,  he  hath 
numbered,  he  hath  weighed,  and  they  divide."  Dan- 
iel was  sent  for,  and  announced  from  them  the  imme- 
diate fall  of  his  empire.  While  this  was  the  state  of 
things  at  the  palace,  Cyrus  had  drained  the  river  into 
bis  moat,  till  it  was  fordable.  Informed  of  the  confu- 
sion which  reigned  in  the  city,  he  issued  orders  to  his 
troops  to  enter  it  that  very  night  at  north  and  south, 
by  marching  up  the  channel.  They  were  command- 
ed by  two  eminent  officers,  and  advanced  towards 
each  other,  without  suffering  any  impediment,  till  they 
met  in  the  centre  of  the  river.  God,  who  had  prom- 
ised to  open  before  him  the  gates  of  brass,  preceded 
them:  otherwise  this  singular  and  adventurous  expedi- 
tion must  have  failed.  Had  the  gates  which  closed 
the  avenues  leading  to  the  river  been  shut,  which  was 
always  the  custom  at  night,  the  whole  scheme  had 
been  defeated.  But  so  was  it  ordered  by  Providence, 
that  on  this  night  of  general  riot  and  confusion,  with 
unparalleled  negligence,  they  were  left  open!  So  that 
these  troops  penetrated  the  very  heart  of  the  city  with- 
out opposition,  and  reached  the  palace  before  any 
alarm  was  given.  The  guards  were  immediately  put 
to  the  sword — Belshazzar  slain — and  the  city  taken 
almost  without  resistance. 


316 

Thus  fell  the  Babylonish  empire.  Cyrus  made  a 
decree  in  favor  of  the  Jews,  which  led  to  their  restora- 
tion; and  thus  terminated  the  captivity  of  Judah,  after 
a  period  of  seventy  years.*  They  returned  to  their 
country,  and  rebuilt  their  city  and  their  temple:  and 
while  the  young  men  shouted  when  the  foundation 
was  laid,  the  ciders  wept  aloud  because  of  its  manifest 
inferiority  to  the  magnificence  of  the  former  building: 
"So  that  they  could  not  discern  the  noise  of  the  shout 
of  joy,  from  the  noise  of  the  weeping  of  the  people!'7 

The  history  which  has  passed  before  you  this  night, 
discovers  with  what  facility  the  Deity  can  dry  up  the 
streams  of  our  enjoyment,  and  even  cut  cfl'the  supplies 
of  our  existence.  He  has  only  to  speak  the  word,  and 
a  thousand  instruments  spring  up  to  execute  the  fierce- 
ness of  his  displeasure.  He  has  only  to  give  the  com- 
mand, and  the  air  which  we  breathe,  becomes  the  ve- 
hicle of  instantaneous  death.  Fire  mingles  with  the 
blast  of  the  desert,  and  consumes  the  vitals.f  The 
pestilence  "walketh  in  darkness,"  or  flying  through 
the  slumbering  city,  shakes  poison  from  its  deadly 
pinions.  He  holds  back  the  face  of  his  sun,  and  (he 
"heavens  are  black  with  wind  and  rain,"  a  partial  del- 
uge covers  the  country,  and  the  promise  of  the  harvest 
is  cut  off.  Or  he  commands  his  winds  to  scatter  the 
clouds,  to  drive  them  to  some  more  favored  land,  and 
the  corn,  expecting  in  vain  the  early  and  the  latter  rain, 
withers  and  perishes.  The  earth  is  cleft  with  the  heat. 
the  "herd  die  through  lack  of  water,  tin-  simhi- 
beats  upon  the  man's  head,  till  he  faints,  and  his  tongue 
cleaves  to  the  roof  of  his  mouth,  and  lie  is  brought 
down  "to  the  dust  of  death."  The  desolation  some- 

•c  note  5,  of  this  Lecture,  :«t  tlic  cn<l  of  the  volume. 
|  See  note  C,  of  this  Lrrtur--,  :it  the  tin!  of  the 


317 

times  suddenly  arises.  There  is  peace  in  the  city:  the 
harvest  is  swelling  to  maturity:  every  heart  rej<M<;es  in 
the  security  of  its  comforts.  A  cloud  rises  in  the  east, 
arid  extends  till  it  hides  the  sun  at  noon- day.  A  noise 
is  heard  in  the  air,  which  covers  "every  face  with 
blackness."  An  army  of  locusts  descends:  and  the 
land  which  was  "as  the  garden  of  Eden  before  them, 
behind  them  is  a  desolate  wilderness."  Sometimes  the 
same  desolation  is  effected  at  a  stroke  by  the  earth- 
quake: at  others,  war  thunders  in  the  heart  of  an  em- 
pire, and  blood  runs  down  the  streets  of  a  city.* 

The  conduct   of  Nebuchadnezzar  is  fruitful  also  in 
instruction.     We  frequently  see  the  worst  of  charac- 
ters filling  the  most  eminent  situations,  moving  in  the 
most  exalted   and  the  most  splendid   spheres,  ruling 
over  powerful  empires,  exalting  his  throne  above  the 
stars  of  heaven:  a  luminary  that  dazzles  the  eyes  of  the 
princes  of  this  world:  a   meteor  that  perplexes,  con- 
founds, and  terrifies  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth.     Na- 
tions bow  down  one  after  another,  to  the  iron  yoke, 
till  the  whole  world  is  subjected  to  him.      Elevation 
of  rank  in  society,  is  so  far  from  being  bestowed  upon 
the  most  worthy,  and  the  most  upright  characters,  that 
these  situations,  so  full  of  danger,  and  which  require 
so  much  wisdom,  are  frequently  seized   by  violence, 
obtained  by  birth,  procured  by  partial  favor,   and  aie 
often  permitted  by  Providence  to  be  occupied  by  men, 
at  once  destitute  of  principle,  and  of  religion  the  ti  ue 
source   of  principle.      When  we  consider  to  whose 
hands  the  government  of  mighty  empires  has  been 
committed:  when  we  examine  the  history  of  the  great 
monarch  of  Babylon:  when  we  trace  the  sceptre  of 

*  See  note  7t  of  this  Lecture,  at  the  end  of  the  volume. 


318 

power,  alternately  under  the  control  of  Greece  and  of 
Rome,  and  read  the  lives  of  monsters,  whose  delight 
it  wras  to  trample  upon  every  social  feeling,  and  to  vio- 
late the  rights  of  humanity,  (to  exclude  modern  histo- 
ry from  our  calcution)  it  must  be  confessed,  and  it  is 
recorded  in  human  blocd,  that  in  many  instances 
"the  earth"  has  been  "given  into  the  hand  of  the 
wicked." 

But  the  power  of  the  wicked  is  limited.  'Heaven 
is  above  all  yet.'  He  who  permits,  can  and  does 
restrain  the  exertion  of  their  power.  To  every  thing 
there  is  a  limit.  The  ocean  has  it  boundaries  over 
which  it  cannot  pass.  The  winds  are  not  suffered  to 
rage  with  fury  uncontroled.  The  planets,  and  even 
eccentric  comets,  have  their  prescribed  orbits.  The 
meteor  has  the  point  of  its  elevation,  and  the  moment 
of  its  fall,  and  of  its  expiration,  assigned  it.  And  he 
who  gave,  can  recall  the  power  of  the  oppressor;  and 
dreadful  will  be  his  responsibility  for  the  abuse  of  it! 

When  war  is  awakened,  the  judgments  of  God  are 
abroad  in  the  earth.  Thus  have  we  seen  to  night  a 
people  distinguished  for  their  religious  privileges,  for 
their  prosperity,  and  for  their  separation  from  all  other 
nations,  devoted  to  destruction  because  of  their  trans- 
gressions. Let  us  learn,  that  whenever  the  sword  is 
permitted  to  devour,  it  is  to  chastise  the  inhabitants  of 
the  earth  for  their  inquity.  War  is  horrible  in  its  na- 
ture, and  in  its  effects.  It  separates  the  dearest  and 
the  closest  connexions  of  human  nature.  One  battle 
renders  thousands  of  wives,  widows:  thousands  of 
children,  fatherless:  thousands  of  parents,  childless, 
thousands  of  spirits  ruined  beyond  redemption!  See, 
pressing  into  yonder  slippery,  empurpled  field,  throngs 
of  all  ages,  seeking  their  own  among  the  dead!  In 


319 

this  disfigured  countenance  the  child  discerns  with  dif- 
ficulty the  features  of  his  father.  In  that  mangled 
body  dwelt  the  spirit  which  was  the  prop  and  the 
glory  of  yonder  silvery  head,  now  bowed  down  over 
it  in  silent,  unspeakable  sorrow.  There  the  widow 
washes  the  wounds  of  her  husband  with  her  tears. 
And  how  few  of  that  dreadful  list  of  slaughtered  men 
were  fit  to  die!  Surely  war  was  let  loose  upon  the 
world  as  a  curse,  in  the  just  anger  of  God. 

Let  us  seek  therefore  a  better  state  of  existence, 
Let  us  deem  it  no  longer  an  hardship,  that  we  are 
"pilgrims  and  strangers  upon  the  earth:"  but  let  us 
"confess  it"  with  cheerfulness,  and  look  for  "a  city 
which  hath  foundations,  whose  builder  and  mak- 
er is  God."  Let  us  turn  away  from  the  kingdoms  of 
this  world,  laid  open  to  the  hand  of  violence,  and  seek 
a  shelter  under  the  government  of  Deity,  from  all  pres- 
ent, and  from  all  future  evil.  Let  us  press  forwards 
to  his  immediate  presence,  to  live  there  in  a  state  of 
rest,  a  state  of  holiness,  a  state  of  felicity,  a  state  of 
permanency,  a  state  of  immutability! 


LECTURE  XII. 

THE  LIFE,  DEATH,  RESURRECTION,  AND  ASCEN- 
SION OF  JESUS  CHRIST,  PROVED  AS  MATTERS  OF 
FACT, 

LUKE  II.    1 — 7. 

And  it  came  io  pass  in  those  days,  that  there  went  out 
a  decree  from  Cesar  Augustus,  that  all  the  world 
should  be  taxed.  (And  this  taxing  wasfrst  made 
when  Cyrenius  was  governor  of  Syria.)  And  all 
went  to  be  taxed,  every  one  into  his  own  city.  And 
Joseph  also  went  up  from  Galilee,  out  of  the  city  of 
Nazareth,  intoJudea  unto  the  city  of  David,  which 
is  called  Bethlehem,  (because  he  was  of  the  house 
and  lineage  of  David:)  to  be  taxed  with  Alary  his 
espoused  wife,  being  great  with  child,  And  so  it 
was,  that  while  they  were  there,  the  days  were  ac- 
complished that  she  should  be  delivered.  And  she 
brougth  forth  her  first-born  son,  and  wrapped  him 
in  swaddling-clothes,  and  laid  him  in  a  manger, 
because  there  was  no  room  for  them  in  the  inn. 

1  COR.  xv.  3 — 8. 

For  I  delivered  unto  youjirst  of  all,  that  which  I  also 
recc'rccd,  how  that  Christ  died  for  our  sins  accord- 
ing to  I  In-  scriptures:  and  that  he  was  buried, and  that 
lie  rose  again  the  third  day  according  to  the  scrip- 
tures: And  that  he  was  seen  of  Cephas,  then  of  the 
twelve.  Aflt-r  that,  he  was  seen  of  above  jive  hun- 
dred brethren  at  once:  of  whom  the  greater  part 


321 

remain  unto  this  present,  but  some  are  fallen  asleep. 
After  that  he  was  seen  of  James;  then  of  all  the 
apostles.  And  last  of  all  he  was  seen  of  me  also, 
as  of  one  born  out  of  due  time. 

2  PETER  i,  16. 

For  we  have  not  followed  cunningly  devised  fables, 
when  we  made  known  unto  you  the  power  and  com- 
ing of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  but  were  eye-witnes- 
ses of  his  majesty. 

THERE  is  a  certain  degree  of  sublimity  in  which  we 
feel  gratified,  and  the  emotions  which  it  excites  are, 
pleasing  as  well  as  awful:  but  beyond  that — the  sen- 
sation becomes  painful  and  oppressive.  As  my  eye 
explores  the  azure  vault  of  heaven,  I  contemplate 
with  solemn  delight  worlds  moving  there,  suspended 
without  any  known  or  visible  support:  yet  I  should 
tremble  if  a  rock  of  ice,  which  would  be  but  as  a  grain 
of  sand  in  comparison  of  these,  hung  over  my  head. 
The  reason  why  I  feel  no  terror  .in  beholding  bodies 
so  immense  quivering  upon  nothing  is,  that  they  are 
too  remote  to  excite  apprehension,  and  distance  has  so 
diminished  them,  that  1  lose  the  conception  of  their 
magnitude.  1  gaze  with  pleasure  upon  the  proud 
elevation  of  the  lofty  mountain,  as  I  stand  at  its  foot: 
but  1  shudder  to  approach  the  brink  of  a  precipice  of 
equal  dfpth:  the  one  excites  in  me  an  impression  of 
the  sublime — the  other  appears  to  risk  my  personal 
safety.  So  nearly  allied  are  the  emotions  of  sublimity 
and  terror,  that  the  one  sometimes  rises  into  the  other! 
An  earthly  monarch  does  well  to  borrow  all  possible 
splendor,  and  to  array  himself  in  all  the  ensigns  of  roy- 
alty, in  order  to  impress  the  spectator  with  an  idea  of 
41 


majesty:  and  scarcely  are  we  impressed  after  all!  We 
see  humanity  tottering  under  that  weighty  grandeur, 
and  feel  that  we  are  in  the  presence  of  but  a  man. 
The  Majesty  of  heaven  needs  no  such  appendages. 
Decked  in  his  mildest  radiance,  no  mortal  vision  could 
endure  the  insufferable  splendor;  and  we  have  seen 
him,  when  all  ideas  of  sublimity  were  absorbed  and 
lost  in  the  stronger  emotions  of  terror.  We  can  only 
behold  him  at  a  distance  without  fear:  whenever  he 
approaches  us,  whatever  veil  he  may  spread  over  his 
uncreated  glory,  we  are  overwhelmed  with  the  pres- 
ence of  Deity. 

We  cannot  contemplate  God  in  any  point  of  view, 
through  the  medium  of  revelation,  without  being  sen- 
sible of  his  perfections.   If  his   mercy  speak  in  whis- 
pers, soft  as  the  breath  of  the  morning,  or  grateful  as 
the  gale  fanned  by  the  wings  of  the  evening,   every 
passion  sinks  to  rest,  every  tumultuous  feeling  subsides, 
and  we  are  lost  in  wonder,  in   love,  in  ecstacy.    If 
his  justice  thunder  in  the  heavens,  the  commotions  of 
listening  nations  are  suspended:  and  men,  and  angels 
acknowledge,  in  silent  awe,  the  justice  of  his  dispensa- 
tions.   In  making  requisition  for  sin,  and  requiring  its 
expiation  by  blood,  his  conduct  may  be  inexplicable 
to   our  present  imperfect  apprehensions;  nevertheless 
we  are  assured,  that  "it  became  Him,  for  whom  are 
all  things,  and  by  whom  are  all  things,  in  bringing 
many  sons  unto  glory,  to  make  the  captain  of  their 
salvation  perfect  through  suffering  "     O  how  unlike 
is  He  to  the  most  perfect  of  human  characters!    The 
wisdom  of  Solomon  yielded  to  the  strength  of  seduc- 
lion:  the  piety  of  David,  to  the  force  of  temptation: 
the  integrity  of  Abraham,  to  the  impressions  of  tenor: 
•dud  there  never  appeared  on  the  face  of  the  earth  a 


323 

perfect  character,  till  "the  Word  was  made  flesh  and 
dwelt  among  us."  But  Deity  is  always  equal  to  him- 
self— and  appears  alike  great  in  terror  and  in  mildness,, 
in  mercy  and  in  judgment,  in  pardoning  and  in  punish- 
ing. 

We  have  lately  seen  him  in  the  thunder  and  the 
lightning  of  Sinai:  we  are  now  to  contemplate  him  in 
the  stillness  and  the  tranquillity  of  Calvary.  In  this 
latter  form  he  is  more  endeared  to  us,  as  sinners  sav- 
ed by  grace:  but  he  is  equally  great  in  both.  The 
righteous  law,  which  was  pronounced  with  an  audible 
voice,  out  of  "the  thick  darkness  where  God  was," 
is  a  beautiful  transcript  of  the  purity  of  his  nature:  and 
the  melancholy  scenes  of  Calvary  present  a  fine  illus- 
tration of  the  harmony  of  his  perfections.  The  first 
dispensation  was  temporary:  the  types,  which  were 
the  shadows  only  of  good  things  to  come,  have  disap- 
peared: the  ceremonial  lawT  waxed  old;  and  its  insti- 
tutions, having  received  their  accomplishment,  vanish- 
ed. A  new  and  immutable  dispensation,  more  sim- 
ple, more  spiritual,  more  enlarged  in  its  nature,  fol- 
lowed: we  still  repose  under  its  shadow;  and  it  looks 
forwards  to  eternity  for  its  fulness,  its  glory  and  its 
completion. 

In  reviewing  years  which  are  passed  by,  we  are 
necessarily  involved  in  difficulties.  The  destroying 
hand  of  time  obliterates  many  a  page  of  history:  and 
the  more  remote  the  age  to  which  our  attention  is  di- 
rected, the  more  oppressively  heavy  hangs  the  cloud 
of  oblivion  over  it.  We  have  surmounted  the  larger 
portion  of  these  difficulties;  and  as  we  return  to  later 
generations,  the  cloud  slowly  rolls  away.  We  have 
gradually  advanced  from  obscurity  to  the  dawn  of  the 
morning — we  have  seen  the  gates  of  light  open  upon 


324 

us — and  darkness  has  reluctantly  yielded,  to  the  ris- 
ing radiance  of  that  day,  which  is  now  hastening  to 
its  meridian. 

The  subject  of  the  present  Lecture  is,  THE  LIFE, 
DEATH,  RESURRECTION,  AND  ASCENSION  OF  JESUS 
CHRIST,  PROVED  AS  MATTERS  OF  FACT. 

We  are  not  now  to  relate  facts  which  took  place  at 
the  infancy  of  time,  in  some  remote  empire,  long  since 
dismembered,  and  its  very  name  consigned  over  to 
oblivion:  but  the  events  which  we  defend  transpired 
under  the  immediate  sway  of  imperial  Rome,  at  the 
zenith  of  her  power,  and  when  her  dominions  com- 
prehended half  the  globe.  Her  standard  had  been 
planted  in  remotest  Asia:  her  emperors  bestowed  or 
displaced  the  diadems  of  neighboring  states  at  their 
pleasure:  her  eagles  had  stretched  their  wings  over  the 
sea,  and  alighted  upon  the  fields  of  Britain,  then  esteem- 
ed and  denominated  "the  ends  of  the  earth;"  and 
while  polished  nations  endured  her  yoke,  the  savage 
barbarian  trembled  at  her  name  in  the  inaccessible 
wilds  of  his  native  forest,  and  the  sons  of  the  north  fled 
to  their  cloud-encompassed  mountains,  and  crouched 
concealed  amid  the  mists  which  crept  along  their  sum- 
mits. 

It  is  singular  that,  at  this  period,  the  whole  world 
were  in  expectation  of  some  grand  and  impending 
event.  Not  only  were  the  descendants  of  Abraham 
looking  for  the  "Desire  of  all  nations,"  but  a  general 
tradition  was  in  circulation,  and  a  general  impression 
prevailed,  that  some  extraordinary  personage  was 
about  to  make  his  appearance.  This  is  not  hinted 
obscurely,  but  the,  expectation  is  stated  openly  and 
fairly,  by  many  of  the  most  considerable  writers  of 


325 

that  age,  both  poets  and  historians.  Seutonius,*  aiu 
Tacitus,t  had  stated  a  common  opinion  that  '-the  East 
should  prevail."  To  this  extraordinary  expectation, 
awakened  and  kept  alive,  we  may  reasonably  impute 
the  journey  of  the  Magi,  whose  curiosity  had  been  ex- 
cited by  the  appearance  of  an  unknown  star,  differing 
in  motion,  and  in  all  other  respects,  from  the  orbs 
which  ordinarily  revolve  in  the  heavens.  Oi'  this, 
however,  we  shall  feel  it  our  duty  to  speak  more  at 
large  hereafter.  As  a  confirmation  of  our  assertion, 
respecting  the  sentiments  entertained  at  that  singular 
period,  we  cannot  resist  the  inclination  which  we  feel, 
to  translate  a  part  of  the  most  celebrated  eclogue  of 
Virgil,  which  he  calls  Pollio — beyond  comparison  the 
most  elegant,  and  deservedly  the  most  admired  pro- 
duction of  all  antiquity.  It  was  written  about  forty 
years  before  the  birth  of  our  Savior.  It  was  compos- 
ed probably  to  compliment  Marcellus,  the  nephew  of 
Augustus  by  Octavia;  but  we  trust  that  you  will  per- 
ceive parts  in  it,  which  can  be  strictly  applicable  to  no 
mortal  reign,  however  glorious:  you  will  deem  it 
probable  that  he  has  borrowed  his  most  sublime  ima- 
ges from  the  prophecies,  with  which  he  might  be  ac- 
quainted through  the  medium  of  the  Greek  transla- 
tion; and  the  whole  is  a  specimen  of  the  general  ex- 
pectation of  the  world,  just  previous  to  the  advent  of 
our  Lord. 

'•Sicilian  Muses,  let  us  attempt  more  exalted  strains! 
The  last  era  foretold  in  Cumasan  verse  is  already  ar- 
rived. The  grand  series  of  revolving  ages  commences 
anew.  Now  a  new  progeny  is  sent  down  from  lofty 
heaven.  Be  propitious,  chaste  Lucina,  to  the  infant 

•  Suetonius  in  Vespasiano,  cap.  4,      f  Tacitus,  Histor,  lib.  v.  cap.  IS. 


320 

boy— by  him  the  iron  years  shall  close,  and  the  gold- 
en age  shall  arise  upon  all  the  world.  Under  thy 
consular  sway,  Pollio,  shall  this  glory  of  the  age  make 
his  entrance,  and  the  great  months  begin  their  revolu- 
tions. Should  any  vestiges  of  guilt  remain,  swept 
away  under  thy  direction,  the  earth  shall  be  released 
from  fear  for  ever;  and  with  his  Father's  virtues  shall 
he  rule  the  tranquil  world.  The  earth  shall  pour  be- 
fore thee,  sweet  boy,  without  culture,  her  smiling  first 
fruits.  The  timid  herds  shall  not  be  afraid  of  the 
large,  fierce  lions.  The  venomous  asp  shall  expire, 
and  the  deadly,  poisonous  plant,  shall  wither.  The 
fields  shall  become  yellow  with  golden  ears  of  corn: 
the  blushing  grape  shall  hang  upon  the  wild  bramble; 
and  the  stubborn  oak  shall  distil  soft,  dewy  honey. — 
Yet  still  shall  some  vestiges  of  pristine  vice  remain: 
which  shall  cause  the  sea  to  be  ploughed  with  ships — 
towns  to  be  besieged — and  the  face  of  the  earth  to  be 
wounded  with  furrows.  New  wars  shall  arise — new 
heroes  be  sent  to  the  battle But  when  thy  maturi- 
ty is  come,  every  land  shall  produce  all  necessary 
things,  and  commerce  shall  cease.  The  ground  shall 
not  endure  the  harrow,  nor  shall  the  vine  need  the 
pruning-hook.  As  they  wove  their  thread,  the  Desti- 
nies sang  this  strain — 'Roll  on,  ye  years  of  felicity!' — 
Bright  offspring  of  the  gods!  thou  great  increase  of 
Jove!  advance  to  thy  distinguished  honors!  for  now 
the  time  approaches!  ]>«  hold,  the  vast  globe,  with  its 
ponderous  convexity,  bows  to  thee! — the  lands — the 
expansive  seas — the  sublime  heaven:-!  Si-c,  how  all 
things  rejoice  in  this  advancing  era!  Oh!  that  the  clos- 
ing scenes  of  a  long  life  may  yet  hold  out,  and  *o 
much  fire  remain,  as  shall  enable  me  to  cclcbratr.  thy 
deeds!"* 

•  Virp.  Eel.  i 


327. 

So  sublimely  sang  the  Roman  bard:  but  Isaiah 
struck  a  deeper  chord,  and  in  strains  still  more  elevat- 
ed announced  the  coming  Savior.  "Righteousness 
shall  be  the  girdle  of  his  loins,  and  faithfulness  the 
girdle  of  his  reins.  The  wolf  also  shall  dwell  with 
the  lamb,  and  the  leopard  shall  lie  down  with  the  kid; 
and  the  calf,  and  the  young  lion,  and  the  failing  to- 
gether, and  a  little  child  shall  lead  them.  And  the 
cow  and  the  bear  shall  feed,  their  young  ones  shall 
lie  down  together:  and  the  lion  shall  eat  straw  like 
the  ox.  And  the  sucking  child  shall  play  on  the  hole 
of  the  asp,  and  the  weaned  child  shall  put  his  hand  on 
the  cockatrice-den.  They  shall  not  hurt,  nor  destroy, 
in  jji  my  holy  mountain:  for  the  earth  shall  be  full  of 
the  knowledge  of  the  Lord,  as  the  waters  cover  the 
sea."*  "For  ye  shall  go  out  with  joy,  and  be  led 
forth  with  peace:  the  mountains  and  the  hills  shall 
break  forth  before  you  into  singing;  and  all  the  trees 
of  the  field  shall  clap  their  hands.  Inetead  of  the 
thorn  shall  come  up  the  fir  tree,  and  instead  of  the 
brier  shall  come  up  the  myrtle  tree."t 

Nor  was  the  state  of  the  world  at  that  period  less 
singular,  than  were  the  expectations  of  the  different 
nations.  The  bloody  portal  of  war  was  closed:  the 
gates  of  the  temple  of  Janus,  always  open  in  a  time 
of  contest,  were  shut:  the  commotions  of  all  empires 
had  subsided;  and  the  whole  earth  enjoyed  a  profound 
tranquillity,  propitious  to  the  Savior's  mild  and  peace- 
ful sway,  and  characteristic  of  it.  This  was  the  fifth, 
time  that  these  gates  had  been  closed  from  the  foun- 
dation of  the  city  of  Rome;  and  the  peace,  which  was 
universal,  continued  without  interruption  for 
years. 

*  Isaiah  xi,  5-^.  t Isaiah  lv,  12,  13- 


32S 

Augustus,  at  this  time,  had  issued  a  decree,  that  att 
persons  under  the  Roman  dominion  should  be  regi,<^ 
tered,  according  to  their  respective  provinces,  cities, 
and  families.  Joseph  and  Mary,  on  this  occasion, 
were  called  to  the  city  of  David,  from  their  obscuie 
village,  to  which,  as  being  of  his  lineage,  they  origin- 
ally belonged,  that  they  might  be  registered  among 
those  who  were  of  the  same  family.  And  thus  the 
mighty  monarch  of  the  Roman  empire,  was  induced 
by  an  invisible  power,  whom  he  knew  not,  whom  he 
served  not,  to  enact  a  novel  and  general  decree,  to 
bring  from  their  obscurity  a  poor,  unknown  family; 
that  He  who  came  too  humbly  to  be  acknowledged, 
might  not  lose  an  iota  of  evidence  to  his  character 
and  to  his  mission;  and  that  the  prophecies  should  be 
fulfilled,  which  had  asserted  that  "the  Ruler  of  Israel" 
should  come  out  of  "Bethlehem!" 

A  variety  of  conjectures  have  been  formed  respect- 
ing this  tax.  Some  have  asserted,*  others  have  deni- 
ed,t  an  universal  enrolment.  It  is  not  necessary  in- 
deed that  any  other  taxation  than  that  of  Judea,  should 
be  supposed,  which  will  account  for  the  silence  of 
ancient  historians  upon  the  subject — The  original 
wordj  does  not  necessarily  imply  "all  the  world,"  but 
may  be  rendered  "all  the  land" — referring  to  the  whole 
of  Israel,  and  comprehending  those  parts  which  had 
been  dismembered  from  the  body,  and  distributed 
among  the  descendants  of  Herod  the  Great;  and  Gal- 
ilee the  country  of  Joseph  among  them.  It  may  be 
necessary  also  to  observe,  that  we  are  not  to  take  the 
term  ^tax"  in  the  sense  usually  affixed  to  it:  a  duty 

•  Pridfanx's  Connec   Vol.  iv.  pt.  ii,  b.  ix. 
|  Lardncr—  CrcJ.  Vol.  ii.  c.  1. 


329 

levied  upon  the  people:  for  it  simply  implies  here  a 
register,  or  enrolment.  It  should  also  be  remembered, 
that  Herod,  although  called  king  of  Judea,  was  de- 
pendent upon  the  Roman  emperor,  and  tributary  to 
him:  consequently,  such  an  enrolment  might  be  made, 
in  virtue  of  a  decree  of  Augustus,  and  yet  be  deemed 
no  infringement  upon  the  rights  of  these  subordinate 
rulers.  Josephus  speaks  of  an  oath  of  allegiance  to 
Herod  and  to  Augustus,  which  his  countrymen  took 
about  this  time;  and  it  is  more  than  probable,  that  he 
means  the  same  thing  with  that  which  Luke  states 
under  the  denomination  of  a  register.  The  time  of 
this  enrolment  is  stated  to  be  when  "Cyrenius  was 
governor  of  Syria.*" 

Upon  this  occasion  came  Joseph  and  Mary  to  Beth- 
lehem. The  immense  conflux  of  people  had  filled  all 
the  inns,  and  all  the  houses  of  public  reception;  so  that 
they  were  compelled  to  lodge  in  a  stable,  where  the 
mother  of  Jesus  was  delivered  of  the  Savior  of  the 
world!  The  inns  of  the  East,  at  this  day,  are  large 
square  buildings,  usually  only  one  story  high,  with  a 
spacious  court  in  the  centre  of  them.  Into  this  court 
you  enter  through  a  wide  gate,  and  on  the  right  and 
left  hand,  you  perceive  rooms  that  are  appointed  as 
lodgings  for  travellers.  Those  that  come  first  take 
the  rooms  which  they  prefer:  but  must  provide  them- 
selves both  with  a  couch  and  provision:  for  the  rooms 
are  perfectly  naked,  and  contain  no  sort  of  furniture 
whatever. 

"My  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world,"  said  the  Savior: 
and  he  spake  a  truth  capable  of  many  and  decisive 
evidences.  His  very  entrance  into  the  world  announc- 

•  In  Lardner's  Cred.  Vol.ii,  c.  1.  the  reader  may  find  an  inexhaustible 
fund  of  criticism  and  sound  learning,  upon  this  circumstance. 

42 


330 

ed  it.  It  would  ill  have  become  Him,  who  was  to  con- 
verse with  every  possible  scene  of  misery,  to  have 
made  his  appearance  amid  the  shouts  of  thousands 
prostrate  before  him.  No  palace  supported  by  col- 
umns  of  marble,  and  perfumed  with  the  incense  of 
Arabia,  sheltered  his  holy  head.  No  vestments  of 
purple  interwoven  with  gold,  shaded  his  tender  limbs. 
No  bending  attendants  received  the  weeping  babe  from 
his  mother's  arms.  No  trumpet  was  blown  through 
the  regions  of  Judeato  declare  the  birth  of  "the  King 
of  the  Jews,"  or  to  announce  the  expectations  of  the 
heir  to  the  throne  of  David.  The  world  frowned  up- 
en  him  from  the  beginning.  Poverty  was  the  hand- 
maid who  waited  upon  him  at  his  BIRTH,  as  scorn  fol- 
lowed him  through  all  his  days.  The  Savior  and  the 
brute  reposed  under  one  common  roof,  and  were  driv- 
en to  the  same  shed.  Even  then,  when  he  first  opened 
his  eyes  upon  the  light,  their  meek  intelligence  seemed 
to  say,  "My  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world!" 

Yet  was  he  not  destitute  of  honor.  Heaven  ac- 
knowledged the  Sovereign  whom  man  rejected.  When 
the  First-begotten  was  brought  into  the  world  it  was 
said,  "Let  all  the  angels  of  God  worship  him."  They 
hastened  to  announce  the  "glad  tidings'7  to  "shepherds 
keeping  watch  over  their  flecks  at  night."  r]  hey  sang, 
"Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  on  earth  peace,  good 
will  to  men."  They  became  the  first  preachers  of  the 
gospel.  On  that  memorable  night,  amid  their  "con- 
stellations," they  proclaimed  the  event, 

"As  i-urth  asleep,  unconscious  lay, 

•'And  struck  their  spangled  1\  i 

Nor  is  this  relation  more  remarkable  than  that  which 
follows,  and  which  is  well  attested  by  the  authority  of 


331 

others  writers.  Strangers  from  the  East,  of  no  mean 
lineage,  and  of  no  mean  attainments,  came  inquiring 
"Where  is  he  who  is  born  King  of  the  Jews?  for  we 
have  seen  his  star  in  the  East,  and  are  come  to  wor- 
ship him."  A  few  inquiries  are  necessary  in  order 
to  illustrate  and  to  establish  this  fact. 

1.  WHO  WERE  THESE  STRANGERS?  They  are  called 
"wise  men,"  or  Magi.*  Some  have  thought  that  they 
were  magicians.  Indeed  in  this  sense  only,  it  appears, 
the  original  word  is  used  in  other  parts  of  the  scrip- 
tures. Simon  the  sorcerer  is  so  called:  so  also  is  Ely- 
mas.  If  they  are  to  be  considered  in  this  light,  then 
were  the  instruments  of  Satan  turned  against  him: 
they  foreboded  the  shaking  of  his  empire,  and  ac- 
knowledged the  dawn  of  that  day  when  "he  fell  as 
lightning  from  heaven:"  and  they  are  the  first  fruits 
of  the  Savior's  victory  over  the  agents  of  darkness. 
We  are  disposed  however  to  accord  with  our  transla 
tors,  and  to  affix  another  interpretation  to  the  term, 
by  considering  them  as  scholars.  The  Magi  of  the 
Persians  were  priests  as  well  as  philosophers:  the  ex- 
pounders of  their  laws,  human  and  divine:  nor  would 
they  suffer  any  man  to  be  a  king,  who  was  not  first 
enrolled  among  the  Magi.  This  fact,  probably,  gave 
rise  to  the  tradition  of  the  Roman  church,  that  they 
•were  kings.  It  is  evident  that  they  were  Gentiles;  and 
these  are  the  first  pledges  of  the  rending  of  the  veil:  of 
the  breaking  down  the  wall  of  partition;  and  of  the 
abolition  of  the  distinctions  which  had  so  long  existed 
between  the  Jew  and  the  Gentile.  They  were  also 
"wise  men:"  men  not  easily  deceived.  Well  acquaint- 
ed with,  tne  face  of  the  heavens,  and  with  the  bodice 

*  Mctyci, 


332 

of  light  which  revolve  there,  they  were  not  drawn 
from  their  native  country  to  Jerusalem,  without  a  con- 
viction that  the  appearance  upon  which  they  gazed 
was  an  extraordinary  one,  and  that  the  light  which 
they  followed  portended  some  great  event. 

2.  WHAT  WAS  THIS  STAR?  It  was  not  one  of  those 
stars  which  have  been  from  the  beginning  of  the  crea- 
tion, either  regular  or  erratic:  otherwise  it  had  not  been 
an  indication  of  any  thing  new.  When  they  said  we 
have  seen  his  star,  the  most  natural  construction 
which  we  can  put  upon  the  words  is,  that  they  then 
beheld  it  for  the  first  time.  It  differed  in  every  respect 
from  all  the  heavenly  bodies  in  the  known  planetary 
system.  They  shine  with  an  equal  blaze:  this  proba- 
bly had  a  superior  lustre.  They  are  distant,  and 
move  remotely  through  the  fields  of  ether:  this  was 
nearer  the  earth,  that  it  might  answer  the  purpose  as- 
signed it.  They  have  a  circular  motion:  this  describ- 
ed no  orbit.  They  are  permanently  fixed:  this,  hav- 
ing conducted  the  Magi  to  the  Savior's  feet,  disappear- 
ed for  ever.  Comets  were  always  held  by  the  ancients 
as  prognostications  of  extraordinary  events,  good  or 
bad.  They  have  made  emperors  tremble  on  their 
thrones,  and  have  nerved  the  arm  of  soldiers  for  the 
battle.  But  this  was  a  luminous  appearance,  resem- 
bling in  shape,  figure,  and  splendor,  a  heavenly  body, 
so  completely,  as  to  justify  the  appellation  of  a  star — 
yet  was  it  so  expressly  formed  for  the  purpose  of  con- 
ducting them  to  the  ttedcemer,  that  they  called  it  un- 
equivocally,"/^ St." 

.'$.  OF  WHAT  corvrijy  M  F.KE  TJIKY?  I  should 
translate  the  passage,  u\Ve,  of  the  East,  have  seen  his 
star" — in  which  case  the  trim,  /',V/,s7,  will  not  be  used 
to  specify  the  part  of  the  heavens  in  which  the  star  ap- 


333 

pearcd.  but  the  country  from  which  they  came.*  Per- 
haps from  Mesopotamia,  the  country  of  Balaam, 
whose  singular  prophecy  was  probably  handed  down 
to  them  by  tradition — "There  shall  come  a  star  out  of 
Jacob:"  and  there  might  appear  to  them  a  singular 
coincidence  between  the  prediction,  and  the  phenome- 
non which  they  witnessed.  Their  gifts  were  Arabian 
— "gold,  frankincense,  and  myrrh."  Their  title.  Magi, 
is  Persian:  and  they,  of  all  nations,  were  likely  to  be 
best  acquainted  with  the  Messiah,  through  the  proph- 
ecies of  Daniel.  If  they  came  from  Arabia  Felix,  or 
Sebaea,  all  of  which  are  east  of  Jerusalem,  and  were 
men  of  rank,  then  was  the  prophecy  of  David  fulfilled, 
"the  kings  of  Sheba  and  of  Seba  shall  bring  gifts." 

4.    BY  WHAT    EVIDENCE  IS    THIS  FACT    SUPPORTED? 

Pliny  speaks  of  "a  certain  splendid  comet,  scattering 
its  silver  hair,  and  appearing  a  god  in  the  midst  of 
men."  Chalcidius  wntes  of  "the  rising  of  a  certain 
star,  not  denouncing  death  and  diseases,  but  the  de- 
scent of  a  mild  and  compassionate  God  to  human 
converse."! 

Thus  were  the  prophecies  of  the  East  re-echoed  by 
the  western  world.  The  whole  globe  slumbered  in 
undisturbed  tranquillity.  The  Jews,  although  tributa- 
ry to  Rome,  took  their  harps  from  the  willows,  to  sing 
the  approach  of  Messiah  the  prince.  Samaria  had 
caught  the  contagion,  and  was  looking  for  the  Christ, 
who  should  "teach  us  all  things."  The  weeks  predict- 
ed by  Daniel  were  accomplished;  and  the  universal 
expectation  may  be  conjectured,  when  impostors  avail- 
ed themselves  of  the  state  of  the  people's  mind  to 

*  See  note  2,  of  this  Lecture,  at  the  end  of  the  volume, 
f  See  note  3,  of  this  Lecture,  at  the  end  of  the  volume. 


334 

personate  the  Messiah,*  and  when  strangers  journey- 
ed from  the  East  to  Jerusalem  in  quest  of  him. 

The  Magi  came  to  the  court  of  Herod,  expecting 
there  to  have  found  the  babe,  who  was  to  be  the  king 
of  the  Jews.  Their  inquiry  alarmed  the  jealousy  of 
this  monarch:  and  in  consequence  of  it,  when  he 
learned  that  Christ  was  to  be  born  in  Bethlehem,  "he 
sent  and  slew  all  the  children  in  Bethlehem,  and  in  the 
coast  thereof,  from  two  years  old  and  under."  This, 
alas,  was  public  enough!  The  voice  of  lamentation  in 
Rama,  when  Rachel  wept  for  her  children  because 
they  were  not,  surely  was  loud;  and  the  history  of  the 
Evangelists  would  have  been  blasted  for  ever  in  the 
eyes  of  their  contemporaries,  had  they  attempted  im- 
position in  so  public  an  event.  But  Josephus  does 
not  record  this  slaughter.  We  answer,  that  Josephus, 
who  wrote  about  seventy  years  after  this  event,  drew 
all  his  history  from  the  public  records;  and  we  may 
imagine  that  an  act  so  cruel,  and  so  inglorious  to  the 
memory  of  Herod,  would  hardly  be  transmitted  to 
posterity  through  the  medium  of  a  public  record.  But 
Josephus  docs  record  many  instances  of  the  cruelty 
of  Herod:  is  it  therefore  an  objection  to  Matthew, 
that  he  records  one  mor*e?  Josephus  relates  those 
things  which  appertained  immediately  to  state  afiairs: 
Matthew,  those  only  connected  with  Jesus  Christ. 
The  history  is  not  at  all  improbable,  from  the  general 
character  of  Herod,  \vho  was  one  of  the  most  sanguina- 
ry tyrants  that  ever  disgraced  humanity.  Is  it  proba- 
ble, that  he  who  slew  Hyrcanus,  his  wife's  grandfather, 
at  ftic  ago  of  eighty,  and  who  on  a  former  occasion 
had  saved  his  life:  who  publicly  executed  his  lovely  and 

*  Acts,  v,  36,  37. 


virtuous  partner;*  and  who  privately  slaughtered  three 
of  his  own  children;  and  all  these  on  principles  of  jeal- 
ousy, should,  on  the  same  principles,  be  sparing  of  the 
blood  of  the  children  of  others?  In  his  last  illness,  a  little 
before  he  died,  he  convened  all  the  chief  men  of  Judea, 
and  after  having  shut  them  up  inthe  Circus,  he  called  his 
family  together,  and  said — "I  know  that  the  Jews  will 
rejoice  at  my  death.  You  ha  ve  these  men  in  your 
custody.  So  soon  as  I  am  dead,  and  before  it  can 
be  known  publicly,  let  in  the  soldiers  upon  them,  and 
kill  them!  AH  Judea,  and  every  family,  will  then,  al- 
though unwillingly,  mourn  at  my  death!"t  "Nay" — 
adds  Josephus, — "with  tears  in  his  eyes,  he  conjured 
them  by  their  love  to  him,  and  by  their  fidelity  to 
God,  not  to  fail  to  obey  his  orders!" — We  ask,  wheth- 
er, upon  a  consideration  of  this  monster's  disposition, 
such  a  deed  as  that  ascribed  to  him  by  Matthew  is 
improbable? — Macrobius,  an  heathen  author,  who 
flourished  at  the  close  of  the  fourth  century,  asserts  it 
as  a  fact  well  known  and  indisputable. 

That  our  Savior  had  been  in  Egypt,  is  so  far  from 
being  denied,  that  it  is  asserted  by  Celsus,  who  affirms 
that  there  he  learned  the  arts  of  magic,  to  which  he 
imputes  his  miracles. 

The  testimony  of  Josephus  to  the  LIFE  of  Christ  is 
as  follows: 

"At  this  time  there  wus  one  Jesus,  a  wise  man,  if  I 
may  call  him  a  man:  for  he  did  most  wonderful  works, 
and  was  a  teacher  of  those  who  received  the  truth  with 

*  Mariamne. 

f  Testimonies  of  Josephus  to  the  cruel  disposition  of  Herod,  manifes- 
ted especially  in  his  last  momenis.  Jos.  de  Bello  Jud.  Tom  II.  lib.  i. 
Cap.  xxxiii.  p.  1041.  Hudson!  edi.  sec  also  Jos,  de  Antiq.  Jncl,  Tom.  !!• 
Mb,  xvii.  Cap.  vii.  p.  769;  &c. 


336 

delight.  He  won  many  to  his  persuasion,  both  of  the 
Jewn,  and  of  the  Gentiles.  This  was  CHRIST;  and 
although  he  was,  at  the  instigation  of  some  of  our  na- 
tion, and  by  Pilate's  sentence,  suspended  on  the  cross, 
yet  those  who  lovtd  him  at  the  first,  did  not  cease  so 
to  do:  for  he  came  to  life  again  the  third  day,  and  ap- 
peared to  them.  And  to  this  day,  there  remains  a 
sect  of  men,  who  from  him  have  the  name  of  Chris- 
tians."* We  claim  this,  as  the  testimony  of  a  learned, 
yet  bigoted  Jew!  In  this  short  passage  is  a  corrobora- 
tion  of  all  the  prominent  declarations  of  the  gospel 
respecting  the  Savior — his  teaching — his  death — at  the 
instigation  of  the  Jews — by  the  judgment  of  Pilate — 
on  the  cross — his  resurrection^-on  the  third  day — his 
appearance  to  his  followers — and  their  unshaken  at- 
tachment to  him. 

We  are  told  by  Matthew,  that  the  fame  of  our  Sav- 
ior during  his  life  was  reverberated  throughout  all  Sy- 
ria; and  that  there  followed  him.  great  multitudes 
from  Galilee,  Judea.  Decapolis,  Iduma^i.  from  beyond 
Jordan,  and  from  Tyre  and  Sidon.  Had  the  records 
of  these  countries  remained,  or  were  the  works  of 
their  historians  extant,  we  might  expect  a  large  confir- 
mation of  the  gospel  history.  However,  the  evidence 
which  we  shall  produce  to  our  Savior's  life  and  min- 
istry must  be  admitted  on  all  hands,  because  we  shall 
take  the  testimony  of  three  enemies.  JULIAN,  com- 
monly called  the  apostate,  acknowledges  that  Jesus 
and  his  disciples  performed  many  wonderful  works; 
and  he  therefore  calls  the  Savior  an  eminent  magician. 
PORPHYRY  allows  that  evil  spirits  were  subject  to  him: 
for  he  says,  that  uafter  Jesus  was  worshipped.  Kscuhi- 
pius  and  the  other  gods  did  no  more  converse  with 

•  See  note  5  of  this  Lecture,  at  the  end  of  the  volume. 


337 

men."  CELSUS,  unable  to  dispute  the  miracles  of  Je- 
sus Christ,  also  flies  to  that  childish  plea,  the  imputa- 
tion of  thenl  to  magic.  The  Jews  themselves  likewise, 
when  they  could  not  controvert  the  gospel  history, 
nor  deny  these  facts,  ascribed  them  to  Beelzebub. 

We  have  the  same  evidences  relative  to  the  DEATH 
of  Jesus.  We  can  produce  the  universal  testimony 
of  ancient  writers,  that  at  the  time  of  our  Lord's  life 
and  sufferings,  the  rulers  mentioned  in  the  Evangelists 
by  their  name,  actually  were  the  governors  of  the 
day.  One  authentic  heathen  record,  which  is  now 
lost,  but  the  remembrance  of  which  is  perfectly 
preserved,  and  the  existence  of  which  can  be  clearly 
proved,  was  the  account  written  by  the  governor  of 
Judea,  under  whom  our  Lord  was  judged,  condemn- 
ed, and  crucified.  It  was  customary  at  Rome,  as  in- 
deed it  is  in  every  empire  to  the  present  hour,  for  the 
prefects  and  rulers  of  distant  provinces,  t©  transmit  to 
their  sovereign,  a  summary  relation  of  all  the  extraor- 
dinary events  in  their  administration.  That  Pontius 
Pilate  should  send  such  an  account  to  Rome,  cannot 
be  doubted:  that  he  really  did,  is  evident  from  the  fol- 
lowing testimony.  JUSTIN  MARTYR,  who  lived  about 
a  century  after  our  Savior's  death,  and  who  suffered 
martyrdom  in  Rome,  was  engaged  in  a  controversy 
with  the  philosophers  at  large,  and  particularly  with 
Oescens  the  cynic.  In  this  controversy  he  challenged 
Crescens  to  dispute  the  cause  of  Christianity  with 
him  before  the  Roman  senate.  It  is  not  to  be  believed 
that  Crescens  would  have  declined  the  contest,  or  have 
lost  the  opportunity  of  exposing  his  adversary  before 
so  august  a  body,  if  he  could  have  triumphed  over 
him  in  the  detection  of  any  palpable  forgeries  in  the 
writings  of  the  Evangelists,  relative  to  cither  the  life 
43 


338 

or  the  death  of  our  Lord.  This  father  in  his  Apology, 
speaking  of  the  death  and  sufferings  of  the  Savior,  re- 
fers the  emperor,  for  the  truth  of  his  assertions,  to  the 
acts  of  Pontius  Pilate.  TERTULLIAN,  who  wrote  his 
Apology  about  fifty  years  after  Justin,  says,  that  the 
emperor  Tiberius,  having  received  an  account  out  of 
Palestine  in  Syria  of  the  DIVINE  PERSON  who  appeared 
in  that  country,  paid  him  a  particular  regard,  and 
threatened  to  punish  any  who  should  accuse  the  Chris- 
tians: nay,  that  the  emperor  would  have  admitted  him 
among  the  number  of  the  deities  whom  he  worship- 
ped, had  not  the  senate  refused  their  consent.  Ter- 
tullian  was  one  of  the  most  learned  men  of  his  age, 
and  well  skilled  in  the  laws  of  the  Roman  empire.* 
The  acts  of  Pilate  now  extant,  are  spurious:  for  those 
to  which  we  refer  as  authentic,  had  perished  before 
the  days  of  Eusebius,  although  they  are  mentioned 
by  him. 

The  death  of  our  Lord,  and  the  manner  of  it,  under 
Pontius  Pilate,  and  in  the  reign  of  Tiberius,  are  men- 
tioned both  by  Tacitus  and  Lucian. 

The  last  melancholy  scenes  of  the  Savior's  suffer- 
ings are  also  fully  attested.  The  gospel  history  ex- 
actly coincides  with  the  Jewish,  und  with  the  Roman 
customs;  and  the  circumstances  attending  his  dying 
agonies  are  universally  admitted.  Behold  the  Lord 
of  life  and  glory  hanging  upon  a  cross!  There  could 
be  no  deception.  He  really  suffered,  he  really  died. 
The  blood  which  stained  his  body,  and  moistened  the 
ground,  was  his  own'  heart's  blood;  and  the  tears 
which  fell  from  his  eyes,  were  the  bitter  tears  of  real 
and  unspeakable  sorrow.  'The  sun  beheld  it — no,  the 
shocking  scene  drove  back  his  chariot!"  Nature  sym 

•  See  Addison's  Evidences  of  the  Christian  Religion;  also  note  6,   ot 
Lecture,  at  the  end  of  the  volume. 


239 

pathized  with  the  expiring  Redeemer,  and  heaven 
withdrew  its  light.  Jesus  suffered  on  the  day  in 
which  the  passover  is  eaten.  This  feast  is  kept  on  the 
fourteenth  day  of  the  month;  and  according  to  the 
Jewish  mode  of  reckoning  from  the  first  appearance 
of  the  moon  after  her  change,  it  fell  on  the  very  day 
in  which  she  was  at  the  full.  An  eclipse  of  the  sun 
can  only  take  place  when  the  moon  is  between  it  and 
the  earth;  or  in  other  words,  at  what  we  call  a  new 
moon:  but  at  the/kZ/,  the  moon  is  in  the  side  of  the 
heavens  opposite  to  the  sun,  and  we  are  between  the 
two  bodies:  there  could  be  therefore  no  natural  eclipse 
of  the  sun  at  the  time  of  the  crucifixion.  Another 
evidence,  that  it  was  a  supernatural  eclipse,  level  to 
every  understanding,  is,  that  in  common  eclipses  the 
sun's  total  darkness  can  continue  but  twelve  or  fifteen 
minutes  at  most;  but  this  awful  darkness  lasted  no 
less  than  three  hours!  How  far  the  darkness  extended 
cannot  now  be  easily  decided:  the  following  evidence, 
we  think,  proves  that  it  was  very  general: — Phlegon, 
the  famous  astronomer  under  the  emperor  Trajan, 
said,  that  "in  the  fourth  year  of  the  202  Olympiad,'7 
which  was  that  of  the  death  of  Christ,  "there  was 
such  a  total  eclipse  of  the  sun  at  noon-day,  that  the 
stars  were  plainly  visible."* — Suidas  also  says,  that 
Dionysius  the  Areopagite,  who  was  then  at  Heliopolis 
in  Egypt,  upon  this  surprising  phenomenon  exclaimed, 
"Either  the  Author  of  Nature  is  suffering,  or  he  sym- 
pathizes with  some  one  who  does — or  the  frame  of 
the  world  is  dissolving!"  Josephus  bears  witness  to 
the  rending  the  veil  of  the  temple;  and  to  this  day,  in 
the  church  of  the  Sepulchre,  which  stands  on  Mount 

*  See  note  7,  of  this  I.ec'an-e,  at  the  end  of  the  volume. 


340 

Calvary,  is  to  be  seen  a  cleft  in  the  rock  said  to  be 
occasioned  by  the  earthquake:  which  cannot  certainly 
be  proved — but  it  is  evident,  that  the  chasm  is  natural, 
and  not  the  effect  of  art;  and  that  the  rock  was  rent 
by  some  violent  commotions  of  the  earth. 

After  the  decease  of  our  Lord,  Joseph  of  Arimathea 
went  to  Pilate,  and  petitioned  for  the  body,  which 
was  granted  to  him.  This  rich  man  deposited  it  in 
his  own  "new  tomb,  in  which  never  man  was  laid." 
Of  course,  should  a  resurrection  take  place,  it  must  be 
iliat  of  Jesus;  it  could  be  of  no  other  person.  The 
chief  priests,  alarmed  possibly  at  the  awful  convulsions 
which  accompanied  his  death,  requested  and  obtained 
permission  of  Pilate  to  set  a  watch  over  the  tomb. 
They  shrouded  their  own  fears  under  a  pretended 
concern  lest  the  people  should  be  deceived.  We  have 
accompanied  the  Savior  to  the  tomb,  we  have  seen  it 
sealed,  we  have  left  a  Roman  guard  at  the  mouth  of 
the  sepulchre;  and  let  the  chief  priests  produce  the 
body  on,  or  after,  the  third  day  in  order  to  silence 
the  clamors  of  the  deluded  multitude.  This,  howev- 
er, is  not  done.  The  plenitude  of  their  malice  was 
not  equal  to  the  war  which  they  attempted  to  wage 
against  the  high  decrees  of  Heaven. 

The  Evangelists  assert  that  on  the  third  day  Jesus 
arose:  and  they  tell  a  regular,  plain,  unvarnished  tale. 
Let  us  new  examine  the  principles  on  which  the  res- 
urrection of  Jesus  is  opposed. 

The  body  was  not  in  the  sepulchre  on  the  third  day. 
Let  the  guards  give  an  account  of  the  lo-s  of  it — they 
and  they  alone  are  answerable  for  it.     Only  one  ac- 
count   \vas   ever   attempted   to   be    palmed  upon  the 
'(] — u!lis  disciples  came,  and  stole  him  while  we 
'."     Now  observe, 


341 

1.  The  guards  appointed  over  the  sepulchre  were 
Roman  guards;  since  it  will  appear  by  the    vquel  of 
this  history  that  they  were  subject  to  Pilate,  and  under 
his  control;  which  would  not  have  been  the  case  had 
they  been  Jews,  but  they  would  have  been  answera- 
ble to  the  rulers  of  that  nation.     Now,  ic  was  death 
for  a  Roman  soldier  to  sleep  upon  his  watch:  there- 
fore had  they  been  really  overpowered  with  slumber, 
they  would  rather  have  feigned  a  miracle,  when  the 
minds  of  their  employers  were  so   well  prepared  to 
receive  it,  to  save  themselves   from   the   punishment 
legally  due  to  their  crime,  than  have  openly  avowed 
it,  had  not  higher  powers  said,  "We  will  secure  you." 
We  have  more  instances  than  one  upon  record  of  jail- 
ors suffering  death  for  the  loss  of  their  prisoners. 

2.  If  the  guards  were  really  asleep,  how  came  they 
to  be  so  positive  as  to  the  persons  who  stole  the  body? 
On  what  principle  could  they  affirm  that  the  disciples 
were  the  depredators?  I  suppose  that  this  is   the  first 
and  the  last  instance  in  which  men  ever  attempted  to 
give  evidence  on  a  transaction  which  too'k  place  when 
they  were  confessedly  asleep:  or  were  ever  called  upon 
for  such  a  purpose. 

3.  Why  were  not  the  disciples  immediately  appre- 
hended and  made  to  restore  the  body?  It  was  indis- 
putably the  duty  of  the  chief  priests  to  produce  it  after 
the  third  day  publicly  in  a  state  of  death,  and  thus 
for  ever  to  silence  the  pretensions  of  a  deceiver.    'Did 
the  enemies  of  Jesus  lack  either  power  or  influence,  to 
rescue  a  dead  body  from  twelve  unarmed,  poor,  de- 
fenceless men,  had  they  seriously  entertained  even  a 
suspicion  that  his  disciples  had  stolen  him?   Did  not 
the  matter  die  away  as  soon  as  possible?    Was  there 
even  any  inquiry   made  into  the  affair?   Did  not  the 


342 

disciples  boldly,  and  openly,  preach  the  resurrection 
of  Jesus,  in  defiance  of  the  threatenings  of  the  Jews? 

4.  Is  it  probable  that  the  timid,  unbelieving  disciples 
of  Jesus  Christ  should  have  the  rashness  to  attack  a 
band  of  Roman  soldiers;  or  to  venture  into  the  sepul- 
chre, even  had  they  slumbered?  We  feel  that  we  have 
reason  to  complain  of  the  want  of  candor  in  infidelity 
in  urging  its  objections  against  Christianity.  Fair  and 
open  ground  is  relinquished  for  finesse  and  quibbling. 
The  disciples  are  sometimes  portrayed  mean  anp!  timid 
men,  to  expose  them  to  contempt:  but  when  it  serves 
the  purpose  of  skepticism,  they  are  represented,  wise, 
prudent,  designing,  courageous,  enterprising;  and  more 
is  ascribed  to  them  than  human  power  ever  yet  per- 
formed. Now  they  cannot  have  too  opposite  charac- 
ters; and  we  hold  infidelity  to  the  gospel  history,  and 
to  its  own  concessions,  that  they  were  plain,  unin- 
formed, timid,  unbelieving  men.  Were  these  charac- 
ters to  attack  a  legion  of  Roman  soldiers  successfully? 

5.  Could   this   immense  stone  have    been   rolled 
away,  and  the  body  removed,  without  noise  and  con- 
fusion sufficient  to  break  their  slumbers?  Surely,  they 
must  have  been  dead,  and  not  asleep! 

6.  Would  the  disciples,  had  they  stolen  the  body, 
have  remained  to  lay  the  linen  clothes  in  order — as 
they  were  found?  Is  it  probable  that  amid  the  confu- 
sion which  such  a  circumstance  supposes,  that  they 
would  either  have  had  leisure,  or  inclination,  or  even 
presence  of  mind,  for  such  an  arrangement? 

7.  Have  we  not  proved  that  heathen  writers,   and 
even  enemies,  admitted  the  fact  of  our  Savior's  mira- 
cles, although  they  ascribed   them   to  a  false   cause? 
Are  there  not  in  the  gospels  four  successive  instances 
qf  his  raising  the   dead,  uncontrovertqd?  And  is  his 


343 

ewn  resurrection  more  wonderful  than  these?  or  than 
that  of  the  sleeping  saints  at  his  death?  Upon  the 
whole,  then,  the  resurrection  of  Jesus  never  was  op- 
posed at  the  time  by  an  objection  that  demanded  a 
moments  serious  consideration:  while  the  evidences  in 
favor  of  it,  are  numerous,  respectable,  and  decisive. 
"For  I  delivered  unto  you,  first  of  all  that  which  I  also 
received:  how  that  Christ  died  for  our  sins  according  to 
the  scriptures;  and  that  he  was  buried,  and  that  he 
rose  again  the  third  day  according  to  the  scriptures: 
and  that  he  was  seen  of  Cephas,  then  of  the  twelve. 
After  that  he  was  seen  of  above  five  hundred  breth- 
ren at  once:  of  whom  the  greater  part  remain  unto 
this  present,  but  some  are  fallen  asleep.  After  that  he 
was  seen  of  James;  then  of  all  the  apostles.  And  last 
of  all,  he  was  seen  of  me  also,  as  of  one  born  out 
of  due  time."  These  witnesses  were  numerous  and 
respectable;  and  they  afterwards  proved  their  sincerity 
by  laying  down  their  lives  for  their  testimony. 

Forty  days  he  shewed  himself  alive,  by  "many  in- 
fallible proofs:'7  at  the  expiration  of  which  he  ascend- 
ed to  glory.  The  disciples  were  eye-witnesses  of  this 
also.  Their  sincerity  they  shewed  in  their  sufferings.; 
and  it  was  not  a  point  in  which  they  could  be  deceiv- 
ed. In  things  which  fall  under  the  eye,  the  clown  is 
as  good  a  witness  as  the  philosopher;  and  in  plain 
matter  of  fact,  the  illiterate  are  as  capable  of  judging 
as  the  learned.  The  consequences  of  his  ASCENSION 
were  seen  in  the  pouring  out  of  the  Holy  Spirit  upon 
them,  in  a  public  manner,  on  a  public  occasion:  and 
the  power  then  conferred  of  working  miracles,  was  a 
standing  evidence  of  the  truth  of  what  they  preached 
for  nearly  a  century.  This  event  sufficiently  accounts 
for  the  subsequent  wisdom  and  courage  of  the  natur- 


344, 

ally  illiterate  and  timid  disciples.  Such  are  the  evi- 
dences by  which  the  life,  death,  resurrection,  and  as- 
cension of  Jesus  Christ  are  supported,  as  matters  of 
fa^t:  whether  they  be  decisive  and  satisfactory,  you 
must  determine. 

That  the  immediate  disciples  of  Jesus  Christ  did 
meet  together  for  the  purposes  assigned  in  the  sacred 
scriptures,  may  be  proved  from  the  testimony  of 
Pliny  the  younger:  who  says  that  '-Christ  was  wor- 
shipped as  a  God  among  the  Christians:  that  they 
would  rather  suffer  death  than  blaspheme  him:  that 
they  received  a  sacrament,  and  by  it  entered  into  a 
vow  of  abstaining  from  sin  and  wickedness,  conform- 
ing to  the  advice  of  Paul;  that  they  had  private  as- 
semblies of  worship,  and  used  to  sing  together  in 
hymns."*  This  account  was  written  about  seventy 
years  after  our  Savior's  crucifixion. 

Quadratus,  who  was  converted  to  Christianity,  was 
a  celebrated  Athenian  philosopher;  and  he  says,  that 
l-those  whom  our  Savior  raised  and  healed,  were  not 
only  seen  while  he  himself  was  upon  earth,  but  sur- 
vived after  his  departure  out  of  the  world."  "Nay," 
adds  he,  "some  of  them  were  living  in  our  days." 
And  both  Tertullian  and  Arnobius  assert,  the  conver- 
sion of  multitudes  of  learned  men,  from  the  simple 
conviction  of  the  truth  of  Christianity,  arising  from  ev- 
idences then  within  their  reach,  and  from  personal 
knowledge,  t 

We  conceive  that  by  this  time,  you  will  be  ready  to 
admit  the  truth  of  the  apostle's  assertion  which  we 
read  to  you  at  the  opening  of  this  Lecture:  uWe  have 

•  -   e  A'Mis-.ii's  Evidences.   See  also  note  8,  of  this  Lcciurc,  at  the  civ.! 
•.•I'  ilu-  volume. 

Amlidet  and  ot  1 


345 

not  followed  cunningly  devised  fables,  when  we  made 
known  unto  you  the  power  and  coming  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  but  were  eye-witnesses  of  his  majesty." 
And  now  it  is  only  necessary  to  observe,  that  Reve- 
lation is  to  us,  what  the  star  was  to  the  wise  men. 

1.  IN  ITS  NATURE.     It  is  a  light  shining  in  a  dark 
place.     It  is  the  "day-spring  from  on  high  visiting  us." 
What  a  world  was  this  before  it  arose!  The  shadows 
of  ten  thousand  midnights  could*  not  have  made    a 
gloom  so  horrible;  and  the  blackness  that  veiled  Egypt 
three  long  days  and  nights,  was  light  in  comparison 
of  this  irksome,  impenetrable  obscurity.     The  trem- 
bling, feeble  ray  of  reason,  served  only  to  make  dark- 
ness visible;  and  the  proud  discoveries   of  philosophy 
shone  only  through  the  night  as  the  twinkling  of  a 
taper,  to  expire  when  the  sun  arose.     No   cheering 
beam  illumined  either  hemisphere,  till  this  morning 
star  was  seen  in  the  East,  as  the  harbinger  of  perfect 
day.     Then  the  shout  was  heard — "The  people  that 
walked  in  darkness  have  seen  a  great  light;  upon  them 
that  dwell  in  the  land  of  the  shadow  of  death  hath 
the  light  shined."     It  resembled  the  star. 

2.  IN  ITS  SOURCE.     It  is  remarkable  that  all  intel- 
ligence came  first  from  the  East — Science  there  un- 
covered all  the  effulgence  of  her  radiant  head,  while 
the  West  was  in  darkness..    There  was  the  first  man- 
ifestation of  God;  and  lor.g,  very  long,  was  this  light 
confined  to  her  borders.     A  night  of  superstition  and 
of  ignorance  brooded  on  the  world,  while  the  descend- 
ants of  Abraham  (who  was  himself  from  the  East) 
enjoyed  the  light  of  truth.     In  every  respect  the  lands 
lying  under  the  rising  sun  have  ever  had  the  start  of 
us;  and  we  have  been  satisfied  to  be  their  disciples. 
Our  language,  cold  and  torpid  in  itself,  has  borrowed 

44 


346 

imagery  from  theirs.  We  have  learned  from  them; 
in  our  eloquence,  to  thunder  with  the  storm:  to  rush 
with  the  torrent:  to  glide  with  the  river:  to  murmur 
with  the  rill;  and  to  whisper  with  the  breeze.  From 
them  came  this  volume  fraught  with  intelligence;  and 
Revelation,  like  the  guiding  star,  arose  in  the  East. 

8.  IN  ITS  OBJECT  it  resembles  this  star.  Jesus 
Christ  is  the  sum  and  substance  of  this  book.  Oblit- 
erate his  name  from  these  sacred  pages,  and  you  have 
extinguished  their  light,  destroyed  their  vigor,  derang- 
ed their  harmony,  and  defaced  their  beauty.  There 
is  not  a  particle  of  information  treasured  up  here,  that 
does  not,  more  nearly  or  remotely,  in  some  way,  re- 
late to  him.  Not  a  prophecy,  not  an  history,  not  a 
miracle,  not  a  doctrine,  not  a;precept,  not  an  epistle,  that 
is  not  united,  by  some  invisible  thread,  to  the  Messiah. 
The  express  design  of  this  record  is  to  make  us  ac- 
quainted with  him:  to  discover  what  he  has  done:  to 
enforce  what  he  has  said:  to  declare  what  he  expects: 
to  testify  of  "the  King  of  the  Jews." 

4.  IN  ITS  ISSUE  Revelation  resembles  this  star.  It 
had  no  sooner  led  these  sages  to  the  feet  of  Jesus  Christ, 
than  it  disappeared  for  ever.  The  Bible  safely  con- 
ducts us  to  Christ,  but  not  immediately.  It  therefore 
remains  to  guide  our  erring  feet  through  this  world,  as 
the  passage  to  his  more  •immediate  presence.  It  is 
.  y  to  discover  the  thousand  dangers  of  the  way, 
and  the  difficulties  whi«;h  we  must  surmount.  But 
when  we  shall  have  arrived  at  our  Father'*  house:  when 
v  C  him,  eye  to  eye,  ami  fare  to  face;  when 

we  if  :  are  safely  conducted  to  th:  where  he  i^: 

having  unfilled  its  commission,  and  answered  ib 
tination,  this  -.  far  also  shall  disappear. 


347 

O  may  we  see  him  as  our  Prince  and  Lord!  see 
him — not  as  did  Balaam  when  he  reluctantly  predicted 
his  coming,  and  said,  "I  shall  see  him,  but  not  now:  I 
shall  behold  him,  but  not  nigh!" — See  him — not  as 
did  the  Jews,  who  discerned  no  form  nor  comeliness 
in  him;  who  saw  no  beauty  that  they  should  desire  him; 
and  who  refused  their  king!  See  him — not  as  Herod, 
who  desired  to  subvert  his  cause,  and  to  take  away 
his  life — not  with  an  envious,  malignant  eye:  but  see 
him — as  did  these  sages,  who  fell  down  at  his  feet  and 
worshipped  him: — embrace  him — as  did  Simeon,  when 
he  was  about  to  die;  and  behold  him — where  he  un- 
veils all  the  splendors  of  his  face,  and  fills  the  temple 
of  God  with  light,  life,  and  his  unclouded  presence! 


LECTURE   XIII. 

THE  CHARACTER  OF  THE  WRITERS  OF  THE  OLD 
AND  NEW  TESTAMENTS. 

1  JOHN  i,  1 — 3. 

That  which  was  from  the  beginning,  which  we  have 
heard,  which  we  have  seen  with  our  eyes,  which 
we  have  looked  upon,  and  our  hands  have  handled 
of  the  word  of  life;  (For  the  life  was  manifested, 
and  we  have  seen  it,  and  bear  witness,  and  shew 
unto  you  that  eternal  life,  which  was  with  the  Fath- 
er, and  was  manifested  unto  us;)  That  which  we 
have  seen  and  heard,  declare  we  unto  you,  that  ye 
also  may  have  fellowship  with  us:  and  truly  our 
fellowship  is  with  the  Father,  and  with  his  Son 
Jesus  Christ. 

HEB.  xi,  36— 38. 

And  others  had  trial  of  cruel  mockings,  and  scourg- 
ings,  yea,  moreover  of  bonds  and  imprisonment. 
They  were  stoned,  they  wnre  sawn  asunder,  were 
tempted,  were  slain  with  the  sword:  they  wandered 
about  in  sheep-skins,  and  goat-skins,  being  desti- 
tute, afflicted,  tormented:  (of  whom  the  world  was 
not  worthy:)  they  wandered  in  deserts,  and  in 
mountains,  and  in  dens,  and  in  caves  of  the  earth. 

WHAT  a  sensation  must  the  ascension  of  the  Savior 

have  excited  in  heaven  and  upon  earth!  what  interest 

in  the  bosoms  of  some,  what  emotions  of  fear  and  of 

in  the  hearts  of  others!  what  were  the  reilrctions 


349 

of  all  parties  upon  this  wonderful  and  impressive  event? 
Had  the  chief  priests  then  seen  him,  (and  it  is  not  im- 
possible that  from  the  tops  of  their  houses  at  Jerusa- 
lem they  might  see  him)   they  would  have  gnashed 
their  teeth  with  envy  and  indignation,  and  disappoint- 
ment, and  have  said — 'Is  this  the  despised  carpenter's 
son,  whom  we  crucified?     Is  this  the   man  whom 
we  endeavored  to  confine  in  the  grave?  Is  this  the 
cause  which  we  hoped  to  subvert?     Is  this  the  teacher 
whom   we  labored  to   destroy?     O  fruitless  efforts! 
He  rises  superior  to  all  our  designs     He    triumphs 
over  all   our   malice!'     But  what  did  the    disciples 
think?    Were  they  not  saying  in  their  hearts,  'Is  this 
the  friend  upon  whose  kind  and  disinterested  counsels 
we  have  so  long  relied?  Is  this  the  expiring  "Author  - 
and  Finisher    of  our  faith,"  whom  our   unbelieving 
fears  thought  to  be  "dead,  but  who  is  alive  again,  and 
will  live  for  evermore?'  "  John  would  ask,  'Is  this  the 
Savior  who  permitted  me  to  share  his  confidence,  and 
to  repose  my  head  upon  his  bosom?'  Thomas  would 
inquire,  'Can  this  be  the  man,  of  whom  my  faithless 
heart  said,  Except  I  shall  see  in  his  hands  the  print  of 
the  nails,  and  put  my  fingers  into  the  print  of  the  ruiils, 
and  thrust  my  hands  into  his  side,  I  will  not  believe?' 
Prostrate  and  weeping  on  the  mount,  Peter  would  say, 
'Is  this  the  master  whom  I  denied,  and  for  whom  I 
dared  not   endure  a  little  affliction?  Is  this  he  who 
raised  me  from  my  vile  employment,  and  admitted  me 
into  his  glorious  service;  but  whom  I  feared  to  own, 
what  day  my  false  tongue  said,  "I  know  not  the  man?" 
And  am  I,  who  was  afraid  to  'watch   with  him  one 
hour,'  and  ashamed  to  be  called  his  disciple,  permitted 
to  behold  his  glory,  to  participate  his  parting  blessing, 
and  to  share  the  dignity  of  his  exaltation?— "To  me. 
who  am  less  than  the  least  of  all  saints  is  this  grace 


350 

given?" — Would  they  not  all  say — 'From  this  mo- 
ment we  give  our  fears  to  the  four  winds  of  heaven? 
"Lord  we  believe,  help  thou  our  unbelief!"     We  wait 
the  accomplishment  of  thy  promise,  and  hail  the  dawn 
of  thy  empire!'  And   while  these  were  gazing  below, 
lost  in  wonder,  in  love,  and  in  admiration,  were   not 
the  angels  answering  each  other  in  responsive  lays? 
"He  hath  ascended  up  on  high!   he  hath  led  captivity 
captive!   he   hath  received  gifts  for  men!  yea,  for  the 
rebellious  also,  that  the  Lord  God  may  dwell  among 
them!"  He  ascended  higher,  and  they   renewed  their 
song — "Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on    earth 
peace,  good  will  toward  men!"     As  he  still  continued 
to  rise,  and  gradually  to   lose  sight  of  the  earth,  "the 
chariots  of  God,  which  are  twenty  thousand,  even 
thousands  of  angels,"  waited  to  receive  him:  the  celes- 
tial harps  were  struck  yet  louder;  and  the  full  chorus 
shouted,  "Lift  up  your  heads,  O  ye  gates,  and  be  ye 
lift  up,  ye  everlasting  doors,  and  the    King    of  glory 
shall  come  in!  Who  is  this  King  of  glory?  The  Lord, 
strong  and  mighty,  the  Lord  mighty  in  battle!  Lift  up 
your  heads,  O  ye  gates,  even  lift  them  up,  ye  everlast- 
ing doors,  and  the  King  of  glory  shall  come  in!  Who  is 
this  King  of  glory?    The  Lord  of  hosts,  he  is  the  King 
of  glory!"  And  now  all  the  resplendent  scene  faded 
through  distance  from  mortal  vision.  HIM,  the  heavens 
received;  and  he  sat  down  on   his  Father's   throne. 
Even  then,  did  not  a  voice  break  from  the  most  excel- 
lent glory,  the  voice  of  God  hoard  and  adored  by  all 
the  armies  of  heaven?  "This  is  my  beloved  Son,  in 
whom  I  am  well  pleased;  and  let  all  the  angels  of  God 
worship  him.     Thy  throne,  O  God,  is  for  ever  and 
ever;  a  sceptre  of  righteousness  is  the  sceptre  of  thy 
kingdom.    Ask  of  me,  and  I  shall  give  thee  the  heath- 


351 

en  for  thine  inheritance,  and  the  uttermost  parts  of  the 
earth  for  thy  possession!"  Still  were  the  disciples  riv- 
etted  to  the  spot  whence  he  ascended:  still  were  their 
eyes  fixed  on  the  point  in  the  heavens  where  he  disap- 
peared: still  his  voice  sounded  in  their  ears,  and  they 
seemed  to  listen  to  his  parting  blessing.  "And  while 
they  looked  steadfastly  toward  heaven  as  he  went  up, 
behold  two  men  stood  by  them  in  white  apparel; 
which  also  said,  Ye  men  of  Galilee,  why  stand  ye  gaz- 
ing up  into  heaven?  This  same  Jesus  which  is  taken 
from  you  up  into  heaven,  shall  so  come  in  like  man- 
ner as  ye  have  seen  him  go  into  heaven."  And  they 
returned  unto  Jerusalem:  but  as  they  left  the  hallow- 
ed mount,  surely  their  hearts  burned  within  them,  and 
they  said — "Blessed  be  the  Lord  God,  the  God  of 
Israel,  who  only  doeth  wondrous  things!  And  blessed 
be  his  glorious  name  for  ever;  and  let  the  whole  earth 
be  filled  with  his  glory.  Amen,  and  amen!" 

But  we  must  now  turn  away  from  this  great  sighe, 
and  follow  these  same  men  through  the  scenes  of  their 
subsequent  lives.  We  must  also  examine  the  conduct 
of  those  who  led  the  way  under  the  former  dispensa- 
tion, and  from  whose  writings  the  mission  and  the 
claims  of  Jesus  were  proved;  and  it  is  our  business 
this  evening  to  present  you  with  an  outline  of  THE 

CHARACTER   OF  THE   WRITERS    OF    THE  OLD  AND  NEW 

TESTAMENTS.     Listen  to  the  discussion  of  a  few  sim- 
ple propositions  upon  this  subject.     We  assert 

I.  THAT  THE  BOOKS  OF  THE  OLD  AND  NEW  TESTA- 
MENTS, WEilE  REALLY  WRITTEN  BY  THOSE  WHOSE 
NAMES  THEY  BEAR. 

We  can  attempt  to  prove  this  position  only  upon 
onr*  common  principle  of  reasoning,  which  will.  1 


352 

ever   be  deemed  conclusive.     It  is  the  testimony  of 
the  people  to  whom  these  oracles  were  committed,  and 
the  concurrent  consent  of  all  nations.     A  large  pro- 
portion of  this  volume  consists  of  the  public  chroni- 
cles of  a  whole  empire;  and  there  is  an  end  of  the  good 
faith  of  nations  if  they  admit  forgeries  into  their  pub- 
lic records:  the  very  sources  from  which  the  historian 
draws  are  contaminated.    With  respect  to  the  laws  of 
Moses,  the  books  of  the  respective  prophets,  thehi sto- 
ry of  the  gospels,  and  the  epistles  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment, they  are  allowed  by  the  very  persons  among 
whom,  and  for  whom,  they  were  written,  to  be  the 
productions  of  those  very  men  whose  names  are  pre- 
fixed to  them.     The  testimony  of  any  man  respecting 
the  historians  or  the  poets   of  his  own  country,  and 
especially  the  testimony  of  a  whole  body  of  people  res- 
pecting their   own  writers,    ought  to  be  deemed  deci- 
sive; because  they,  and  they  only,  are  competent  wit- 
ncsses  in  the  affair.     Now  these  men  were  Jews;  and 
we  have  the  testimony  of  the  whole  Jewish  nation, 
handed  down  from  father  to  son  through  all  succes- 
sive generations,  from  the  periods  when  the   different 
writers  flourished  to  the  present  hour,  that  such  and 
b  books,  were,  according  to  their  pretensions,  really 
written  by  such  and  such  persons,  to  whom  they  are 
ibed;    and  all  nations  have  concurred,  at  every 
it  of  time,  in  this  testimony.     These  writers  ever 
e  been  acknowledged  by  them;  and  the  chronology 
ii  works,  for  the  most  part,  has  been  accurately 
mined.     No  man  who   pretends  to  reason  can 
y  his  assent  to  such  evidence.     He  who  can  bring 
-elf  to  reject  such  authority,  may  with  equal  pro- 
:y  concluJr  that  the  productions  of  Homer  or  of 
Jl,  of  Demosthenes,  or  of  Cicero,  are  not  really  the 


353 

writings  of  the  distinguished  poets  and  orators  whose 
names  they  bear.  Fjr  these  rest  precisely  upon  the 
same  evidence,  which  we  now  produce  in  favor  of  the 
sacred  records — the  testimony  of  their  contemporaries, 
and  of  their  countrymen,  and  the  concurrent  consent 
of  all  nations.  Deny  this  authority  in  the  one  case, 
and  you  must  necessarily  destroy  it  in  the  other: 
neither  can  you  (to  be  consistent)  believe  with  any 
degree  of  certainty,  any  thing  but  that  which  falls 
within  the  immediate  sphere  of  your  own  knowledge. 
To  follow  this  principle  what  a  fund  of  genius  and  of 
information  must  be  destroyed!  We  must  blot  out  the 
works  of  all  our  historians,  on  the  pretence  that  they 
need  decisive  evidence;  and  human  intelligence  must 
be  drawn  from  the  scanty  springs  of  three-score  years 
and  ten,  furnished  by  a  man's  own  life.  But  if  the 
testimony  of  a  people  respecting  their  own  writers,  and 
the  general  consent  of  nations,  be  any  thing:  if  this  be 
the  authority  upon  which  we  receive  all  works,  and 
all  writers:  if  this  be  the  basis  of  all  our  historical  cer- 
tainty: then,  is  it  ceded  to  the  writers  of  the  Bible,  and 
on  this  general  principle  must  it  be  admitted,  that  the 
books  of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments  were  really 
written  by  those  whose  names  they  bear.  We  affirm 

II.  THAT  THE  WRITERS  WERE,  FOR  THE  MOST  PART, 
EYE-WITNESSES  OF  THE  FACTS  WHICH  THEY  RECORD- 
ED. 

There  is  a  sufficient  ?!egree  of  internal  evidence,  de- 
ducible  from  the  different  compositions  themselves,  to 
establish  this  assertion.  Examine  the  first  five  books  of 
the  scriptures,  and  it  will  appear  that  Moses  was  neces- 
sarily an  eye-witness  of  most  of  the  events  recorded 

in  his  law.      He  was  present  during  all  the  plagues  of 
4.5 


454 

Egypt,  and  was  constituted  the  great  agent  in  produc- 
ing them.   He  saw  the  water  transformed  into  blood 

the  pestilence  which  destroyed  the  cattle — the  insects 
which  covered  the  country --the  protracted  night  which 
brooded  over  the  whole  empire,  Goshen  excepted — 
and  he  heard  the  cry  of  despair  sound  from  all  quar- 
ters, re  echoed  from  the  palace  to  the  prison,  when  the 
first-born  were  slain.  He  was  an  eye-witness  to  the 
deliverance  of  the  Israelites,  and  to  their  miraculous 
journey  through  the  wilderness.  He  saw  the  fire 
which  encircled  Mount  Sinai,  and  the  cloud  which 
rested  upon  its  summit:  he  heard  the  terrible  thunder- 
ings,  and  the  more  fearful  voice  of  God.  He  beheld 
every  fact  which  he  relates  till  they  reached  the  very 
borders  of  Canaan.  When  he  died,  Joshua  took  the 
command  of  Israel's  armies,  and  recorded  events  as 
they  transpired,  till  he  also  was  laid  in  the  dust  of  death. 
The  books  of  Judges,  of  Ruth,  of  Samuel,  of  the 
Kings,  and  Chronicles,  although  the  compositions  of 
different  persons,  were  evidently,  from  their  style,  writ- 
ten at  the  time,  and  on  the  spot,  where  the  events 
which  they  relate  took  place,  This  is  manifest,  from 
the  simplicity  of  the  narrations,  and  the  appeal  both  to 
persons  and  to  things  then  well  known,  the  remem- 
brance of  which  is  now  lost.  Moreover,  we  are  inces- 
santly referred  in  the  historical  pat  is  of  the  scriptures 
to  books  which  are  no  longer  extant,  but  which  were 
then  unquestionably  esteemed  faithful  records;  and  this 
very  circumstance  proves  at  once  the  antiquity,  the  ve- 
racity, and  the  preservation  of  the  Bible.  Precisely 
on  the  same  ground  is  the  New  Testament  recommend- 
ed to  us.  Listen  to  the  language  of  the  apostles  them- 
selves. ''That  which  was  from  the  beginning,  which 
we  have  heard,  which  we  have  seen  with  our  eyes, 


355 

which  we  have  looked  upon,  and  our  hands  have 
handled  of  the  word  of  life — declare  we  unto  you!7' 
We  maintain, 

4) 

III.  THAT  THE  THINGS  WHICH  THEY  DID  NOT  SEE, 
THEY  DERIVED  FROM  THE  MOST  CERTAIN  EVIDENCES, 
AND  DREW  FROM  THE  PUREST  SOURCES. 

If  a  man  be  incompetent  to  record  any  thing  but 
that  which  he  sees,  history  is  altogether  useless.  But 
a  satisfactory  degree  of  certainty  is  attainable  on  eyents 
of  which  we  were  not  eye-witnesses;  and  no  one  in 
this  assembly  doubts  the  signing  of  Magna  Charta,  or 
the  battle  of  Agincourt,  any  more  than  if  he  had  stood 
by,  and  seen  the  one  fought,  and  the  seals  affixed  to 
the  other.  We  owe  much  to  the  integrity  of  others; 
and  the  mutual  confidence  on  which  society  is  found- 
ed, requires  with  justice  our  assent  to  thousands  of 
events,  which  transpired  long  before  we  were  born,  on 
which,  if  contemporary  with  ourselves,  were  transact- 
ed  at  some  remote  spot  on  the  face  of  the  globe.  Who 
will  affirm  that  Hume  or  Rapin,  were  incompetent  to 
produce  an  history,  which,  making  some  allowances 
for  human  prejudices,  is  worthy  the  confidence  and 
credit  of  our  countrymen?  Yet  neither  the  one  nor 
the  other  was  an  eye-witness  of  more  than  an  insig- 
nificant portion  of  his  voluminous  production.  But  if, 
by  drawing  from  pure  sources,  a  man  is  to  be  deemed 
competent  to  relate  facts  of  which  he  was  not  an  eye- 
witness: then,  the  writers  of  the  Bible,  in  those  partic- 
ular events  of  which  confessedly  they  were  not  eye- 
witnesses, but  which  they  affirm  with  confidence,  are 
entitled  to  our  credit.  Moses,  for  instance,  on  these 
principles,  is  competent  to  the  relation  of  every  event 


356 

recorded  in  the  book  of  Genesis;  although  it  is  admit- 
ted that  they  took  place  before  his  birth,  and  although 
he  goes  back  to  the  beginning  of  all  things.  From 
Adam  to  Noah,  from  Noah  to  Abraham,  from  Abra- 
ham to  Joseph,  and  from  Joseph  to  Moses,  but  four 
persons  are  necessary  to  transmit  events  as  they  trans- 
pired; and  these  four  persons  were  Methuselah,  Shem, 
Isaac,  and  Amram,  the  grandfather  of  Moses.  Those 
things  of  which  the  apostle  Paul  was  not  an  eye- witness 
he  most  surely  believed,  because  he  lived  with  those 
who  were  the  companions  of  our  Lord  through  all  his 
ministry,  and  were  present  during  those  very  events 
which  he  received  upon  their  testimony.  There  can 
be  no  question  that  he  found  them  men  of  unshaken 
veracity.  The  disciple  of  Gamaliel  was  not  likely  to 
become  the  dupe  of  the  designing.  He  must  have  had 
something  like  evidence  to  lead  him  to  relinquish  the 
fair  prospect  of  worldly  emolument  for  certain  and  in- 
evitable suffering:  he  must  have  felt  something  like 
conviction  to  destroy  the  prejudices  which  he  openly 
avowed,  and  which  were  sufficiently  powerful  to  make 
him  sanction  the  murder  of  Stephen.  In  every  instance 
in  which  the  writers  of  the  Old  and  the  New  Testament 
were  not  eye-witne?scs  of  the  events  which  they  re- 
corded, it  will  be  found,  upon  the  closest  scrutiny,  that 
they  derived  their  evidence  from  the  most  authentic 
sources.  We  shall  j.rove, 

IV.    THAT  THKY  Wl  III'.   .VI  N   (  1'  1NTKGRITY,  IMPARTIAL* 
I  TV,  AND  CAN  DO  U. 

That  they  were  men  of  JNTI.C.RITY  we  gather  from 
the  tacit  concisions  of  their  mo^t  inveterate  enemies. 
A  thousand  aceu^atioi.s  were  alleged  against  them 


357 

equally  cruel,  injurious,  and  unfounded.    Every  possi- 
ble effort  was  made  to  terrify  and  to  silence  them;  and 
scourgings,  and  imprisonments,  and  death  itself,  were 
added  to  menaces.     They  were  charged  with  sedition, 
while  their  writings,  their  preaching,  and  their  conduct, 
equally  and  powerfully  enjoined,  that  their  followers 
should  "submit  to  every  ordinance   of  man,  for  the 
Lord's  sake."     They  were  unjustly  accused  of  pollut- 
ing the  temple.     It  was  said  that  they  despised  the  law, 
the  purity  of  which  they  exemplified  in  their  lives.  But 
their  integrity  was  never  questioned,  and  their  state- 
ment of  facts  was  never  denied.     That  which  they  af- 
firmed, they  affirmed  openly:  they  affirmed  on  the  spot 
stained  with  the  Savior's  blood,  and  on  which  the  facts 
which   they  asserted  were  transacted:  they  affirmed 
before  a  whole  people,  who  were  capable  of  detect- 
ing imposition  and  exposing  falsehood,  if  there  had 
been  either  the  one  or  the  other,  and  whose  determin- 
ed enmity   impelled   them    to   seize  every   occasion 
against  them:  yet  amid  all   this  their  integrity  could 
not  be  disputed,  and  their  veracity  stood  unimpeach- 
ed.     Nay,  on  all  these  occasions  they  boldly  dared  the 
trial,  they  challenged  their  adversaries  to  disprove  their 
words,  they  defied  their  malice,  and  openly,  and  con- 
stantly asserted — i4We  are  witnesses  of  these  things!" 
Their  IMPARTIALITY  appears  in  every  page  of  their 
writings.       Their  own  failings  are  recorded  with  sin- 
gular flnd  unexampled  fidelity.     They  offer  no  pallia- 
tion of  their   conduct — they  conceal    nothing— they 
alter  nothing — they  plead  nothing.       They  sacrifice 
private  feelings  to  the  cause  of  truth.       And  with  the 
same  impartiality  with  which  they   record  their  own 
shame,  they  relate  the  weakness  of  their  friends  and  fel- 
low-disciples.    We  will  not  say,  that  no  tear  fell  upon 


358 

the  line  which  consigned  to  everlasting  remembrance 
every  humilitating  circumstance,  but  that  tear  was  not 
suffered  to  erase  the  narrative;  we  will  not  say,  that 
their  hand  did  not  tremble  as  it  wrote  the  sad  history, 
but  that  hand  firmly  inscribed  the  truth,  and  gave  its 
faithful  evidence  against  the  weakness  of  its  master. 
Neither  do  they  conceal  a  single  circumstance  of  igno- 
miny attending  either  their  Lord  or  themselves.  They 
relate  all  the  shame  of  his  death,  and  the  degradation 
to  which  their  conscience  compelled  them  to  submit 
for  his  sake. 

Their  CANDOR  is  seen  in  this,  that  they  never  mag- 
nified the  rage  of -their  enemies:  never  represented  their 
characters  more  deformed  and  sanguinary  than  they 
really  were:  never  imputed  to  them  motives  which 
they  did  not  avow:  never  reviled,  never  reproached 
them.  When  they  wrote  the  life  of  their  Lord,  it  was 
without  eulogy:  when  they  recorded  his  death,  there 
is  no  attempt  to  inflame  the  mind  of  the  reader:  not  a 
single  remark  is  made  throughout  the  whole  narrative: 
if  they  wept  (and  surely  they  did  weep)  they  wept  in 
silence,  and  no  complaint  escaped  from  their  pen.  A 
plain,  unvarnished  tale,  is  told  throughout,  andis  left  to 
make  its  way,  unassisted,  to  the  heart  and  to  the  con- 
science. Where  shall  we  find  such  historians?  Even 
skepticism  must  admit  their  integrity,  their  impartiality, 
and  their  candor.  We  advance 

V.    THAT  THEY  WERE  WISE  AND  GOOD    MEN. 

Who  will  call  in  question  the  understanding  or  the 
accomplishments  of  Moses?  Under  what  circumstances 
of  honor,  has  his  name  hern  transmitted  through  ages 
and  generations,  till,  irradiated  with  all  its  pristine  glo- 


359 

ry,  it  has  reached  even  these  latter  days!  To  a  mind  far 
above  the  common  standard — to  talents  the  most  il- 
lustrious, he  added  all  the  learning  of  the  Egyptians. 
Born  at  the  fountain-head  of  literature,  he  drank  co- 
pious draughts  of  the  salutary  stream.  Before  him 
the  celebrated  lawgivers  of  antiquity,  although  much 
later  than  this  renowned  legislator,  shrink  away,  as  the 
stars  which  shine  through  the  night,  fade  before  the 
first  tints  of  the  morning,  and  hide  their  diminished 
heads  when  the  sun  uncovers  his  radiance.  In  like 
manner  all  the  writers  of  the  Old  and  New  Testa- 
ments demand  our  respect  as  men  of  supereminent  tal- 
ents, and  of  solid  wisdom.  No  one  can  read  those 
Psalms  which  are  ascribed  to  the  king  of  Israel,  and 
imagine  that  David  was  a  man  of  a  common  under- 
standing. The  fragments  which  have  descended  to  us 
from  Solomon,  abundantly  confirm  the  decision  of  the 
scriptures  in  naming  him  the  wisest  of  men.  He  must 
be  strangely  destitute  of  taste  who  can  read  unmoved, 
the  majestic  and  sublime  productions  of  Isaiah.  We 
disdain  to  answer  the  bold,  unfounded,  ignorant  asser- 
tions of  the  author  of  ^The  Age  of  Reason,"  who  says, 
that  "a  school-boy  should  be  punished  for  producing  a 
book  so  full  of  bombast  and  incongruity  as  the  book 
called  Isaiah."  A  man  who  can  thus  speak  of  a  pro- 
duction so  truly  sublime,  upon  general,  we  might  say 
universal  consent,  has  forfeited  all  claim  to  criticism; 
and  he  must  feel  something  like  degradation  who 
should  sit  down  to  answer  so  palpable  a  misrepresent- 
ation. We  pass  over  the  words  of  Jesus  Christ,  for  surely 
it  will  be  admitted  that  "never  man  spake  as  this  man." 
Luke  rises  before  us  as  claiming  to  rank  high  in  res- 
pectability. His  writings  will  appear  to  any  unpre- 
judiced mind  impressed  with  the  stamp  of  genius  and 


360 

of  literature.  In  support  of  this  position  is  it  necessa- 
ry to  do  m,)re  than  appeal  to  the  short  and  elegant 
preface  to  his  Gospel,  after  which,  having  once  for  all 
introduced  himself,  he  disappears,  and  the  historian  is 
lost  in  the  narrative?  -Forasmuch  as  many  have  tak- 
en in  hand  to  set  forth  in  order  a  declaration  of  those 
things  which  are  most  surely  believed  among  us,  even 
as  they  delivered  them  unto  us,  which  from  the  begin- 
ning were  eye  witnesses,  and  ministers  of  the  word:  It 
Deemed  good  to  me  also,  having  had  perfect  under- 
standing of  all  things  from  the  very  first,  to  write  unto 
thee,  in  order,  most  excellent  Theophilus,  that  thou 
mightest  kn  nv  the  cert-iinty  of  thus,*  things  wherein 
thou  has  beeir  instructed."  The  apostle  Paul  is  a 
name  too  great  to  be  passed  over  in  silence.  His  de- 
fence before  Agrippa  is  a  master-piece  of  genuine  elo- 
quence and  feeling;  and  he  who  can  deny  it,  after 
reading  the  sentence  with  which  it  closes,  appears  to 
us  most  unreasonably  prejudiced,  and  irreclaimable  by 
the  force  of  evidence.  4kThen  Agrippa  said  unto  Paul 
Almost  thou  persuadest  me  to  be  a  Christian.  And 
Paul  said,  I  would  to  God,  that  not  only  thou,  but 
also  all  that  hear  me  this  day,  were  both  almost, 
and  altogether  such  as  I  am — except  these  bonds!" 
His  writings  from  first  to  last  discover  an  extraordi- 
nary mind,  and  a  funJ  of  intelligence,  worthy  a 
disciple  who  sat  at  the  feet  of  Gamaliel.  Those  who 
were  unlettered  men,  have  no  less  a  claim  upon  our 
respectful  attention.  Who  does  not  perceive  a  blaze 
of  genius  and  of  talent  burst' ng  through  all  the  obscu- 
rity of  their  birth,  and  counteracting  the  original  nar- 
rowness of  their  education?  They  were  all  wise  men; 
and  their  wisdom  carried  with  it  the  most  decisive  ev- 
idence that  it  was  from  above:  it  was  -first  pure,  then 


361 

peaceable,  gentle,  easy  "to  be  intreated,  full  of  mercy 
and  of  good  fruits,  without  partiality,  and  without 
hypocrisy." 

We  have  pronounced  but  a  small  part  of  their  eulo- 
gium  in  saying  that  they  were  WISE  men;  for  talents 
are  often  found  united  to  vice:  but  they  were  also  em- 
inently GOOD  men.  They  were  men.  We  do  not  de- 
sign to  hold  them  up  to  your  view  as  perfect  charac- 
ters: for  such  a  representation  would  neither  accord 
with  truth,  nor  agree  with  their  presentions:  but  they 
were  as  perfect  as  humanity  in  its  most  exalted  state 
upon  earth  seems  capable  of  being.  The  charges 
against  the  character  of  David  have  been  heavy,  but 
they  have  been  as  ably  refuted.*  The  light  which  he 
enjoyed  was  small,  compared  with  the  meridian  glory 
which  illumines  our  walk  through  life.  And  he  must 
have  an  hard  heart,  and  a  most  unreasonable  con- 
science, who  can  urge  David's  failings  against  him, 
with  much  severity,  after  the  contrition  which  he  felt 
and  expressed.  Considered  in  connexion  with  the 
other,  and  excellent  parts  of  his  character,  these  de- 
fects resemble  the  dark  spots,  which,  to  a  philosophic 
and  scrutinizing  eye,  appear  on  the  sun's  disk;  but 
which  to  any  unassisted  organ  of  vision,  are  swallow- 
ed up  in  the  blaze  of  his  glory.  In  the  writings  and 
the  lives  of  the  apostles,  what  piety,  what  benevolence, 
what  devotion,  what  love  to  God  and  to  man,  are  vis- 
ible! What  genuine  zeal  did  they  manifest!  A  zeal  dis- 
tinguished from  mere  enthusiasm,  both  in  its  object, 
and  in  its  tendency!  No  good  man  can  read  these 
writings,  such  is  their  holy  fervor,  and  such  their 
exalted  piety,  without  being  made  both  wiser  and  bet- 
ter! Do  you  not  discern  in  them  hearts  weaned  from 

•  la  Chandler's  life  of  David, 

46 


362 

the  present  world,  and  fired  with  the  glorious  prospects 
of  futurity?  Do  you  not  perceive  in  all  things  an  in- 
tegrity which  made  them  ardent  in  the  support  of  their 
cause,  and  ready  to  suffer  every  extremity  for  it?  Yet 
that  integrity,  and  that  ardor,  mingled  with  humility, 
temperance,  mildness,  goodness,  and  truth?  Do  they 
not  continually  insist  upon  these  things  as  the  gen- 
uine effects,  the  necessary  consequences,  and  the  dis- 
tinguishing characteristics,  of  their  religion?  O  let  any 
unprejudiced  person  calmly  sit  down  to  read  their 
lives,  where  all  their  weaknesses  appear,  and  where 
none  of  their  faults  are  extenuated,  and  he  must  con- 
clude that  they  were  GOOD  men! 

We  might,  without  departing  much  from  our  plan, 
draw  up  by  way  of  contrast  the  lives  and  actions 
of  the  principal  adversaries  of  Revelation,  and  oppose 
them  to  those  of  its  first  assertors.  We  think  that  the 
confessions  of  Rousseau  would  look  but  ill  when  plac- 
ed by  the  penitential  tears  of  Peter,  or  the  contrite 
sighs  of  David.  The  licentious  life,  and  the  gloomy 
death  of  Voltaire,  would  be  a  striking  contrast  to  the 
labors,  the  patience,  the  perils,  and  above  all,  the  tri- 
umphant expiring  moments  of  Paul.  We  shall  not, 
however,  pursue  this  subject.  These  lives  will  be  con- 
trasted another  day.  But  we  will  add — that  before  the 
patrons  of  infidelity  speak  so  bitterly  of  the  failings  of 
David,  they  should  place  by  his  life,  the  conduct  of  its 
most  strenuous,  and  most  distinguished  advocates;  and 
comparison  would  reflect  but  little  honor,  and  little 
credit,  i»|M>n  themselves.  The  writers  of  the  Bible 
1  good  men.  We  believe 


363 

VI.    THAT    THEY    HAD  THE  BEST  MOTIVES  IN  ALL  THAT 
THEY    DID    OR    WROTE. 

We  can  only  judge  of  motives  from  the  honest  pro- 
fessions which  men  make,  and  the  integrity  of  con- 
duct which  confirms  and  establishes  these  professions. 
And  when  we  see  them  acting  disinterestedly,  and  en- 
countering calamity  under  the  profession  oi  kindness 
to  others:  when  we  are  persuaded  that  in  no  one  in- 
stance they  seek  to  serve  themselves:  but  that,  on  the 
contrary,  the  plan  which  they  follow  must  terminate 
in  their  temporal  ruin — we  must  give  them  credit  for 
their  professions,  and  may  safely  conclude  that  their 
motives  are  pure.  Now  it  is  easy  to  prove,  that  this 
was  the  case  with  the  first  adherents  of  revelation,  and 
the  first  preachers  of  the  Gospel.  Men  are  accustom- 
ed usually  to  act  either  from  motives  of  benevolence, 
or  from  motives  of  interest.  The  prophets  and  apos- 
tles wrote  and  acted  not  from  the  latter,  while  there  is 
a  fulness  of  evidence  that  they  were  influenced  by  the 
former.  Under  interested  motives  we  may  include  the 
love  and  hope  of  fame,  of  wealth,  of  applause,  of  what- 
ever may  tend  to  render  the  man  more  noted,  and 
more  respectable.  By  benevolent  motives  we  under- 
stand disinterested  motives;  comprising  love  to  God 
and  to  man,  apart  from  every  selfish  impulse;  and 
such  motives  as  will  lead  the  man  cheerfully  to  relin- 
quish his  own  comforts  for  the  benefit  of  society  at 
large,  or  for  conscience-sake.  Now  we  will  venture 
to  make  our  appeal  to  infidelity  itself,  and  to  ask. 
whether  the  writers  of  the  Bible  have  not  a  fair  and 
honorable  claim  to  benevolent  motives?  What  inter- 
est had  Moses  in  relinquishing  the  crown  of  Egypt,  to 
head  the  insulted,  outcast,  enslaved  Israelites,  and  to 
lead  them  through  a  perilous  journey  to  the  possession 


864 

of  a  remote  country,  over  the  borders  of  which  he 
himself  never  passed,  and  which  he  never  saw,  but  at 
a  distance?  Had  ambition  or  fame  been  his  object, 
he  had  only  to  wait  the  death  of  Pharaoh,  when,  re- 
commended as  he  was  by  talents,  the  choice  of  Egypt 
had  probably  fallen  upon  him,  and  with  its  armies  at 
his  command,  with  its  forces  under  his  control,  and 
with  its  resources  for  his  resort,  according  to  all  human 
appearance,  he  might  hare  effected  his  purpose  with 
greater  ease,  and  certainly  would  have  enjoyed  more 
temporal  splendor.  What  interest  had  Isaiah,  or  any 
of  the  prophets,  in  pronouncing,  and  recording,  denun- 
ciations which  provoked  their  countrymen,  and  which 
superinduced  not  only  immediate  hardships  and  bitter 
imprisonments,  but  eventually  terminated  in  their 
martyrdom?  What  interest  had  Luke  to  serve  in 
overlooking  a  liberal  and  respectable  profession  as  a 
physician,  to  link  his  life  and  his  fortunes  with  those 
of  an  houseless  Nazarene,and  a  few  outcast  Galileans, 
his  wandering  disciples?  What  interest  had  Paul  to 
serve,  in  descending  from  the  sphere  of  applause  and 
of  honor  in  which  he  moved  as  a  Pharisee,  to  encoun- 
ter the  danger,  the  disgrace,  and  the  death  annexed  to 
a  profession  of  Christianity?  What  motives  of  inter- 
est could  lead  the  first  propagators  of  the  Christian  re- 
ligion to  provoke  the  fury  of  an  enraged  populace,  to 
draw  down  upon  themselves  the  wrath  of  the  rulers, 
to  oppose  the  prejudices  not  inerelj  of  their  country- 
men, but  of  the  whole  heathen  \vorkl,  to  endure  tlu* 
loss  of  all  thirds,  and  to  suffer  death  itself,  in  defence 
of  the  dn-.'.Uiucs  which  they  promulgated,  the  j>;vc<  (>ts 
which  they  taught,  or  the  facts  which  they  related? 
Deluded  men,  infidelity  may  think,  and  call  them:  but 
interested  men,  no  OQC,  with  truth,  or  even  the 


365 

blance  of  truth,  can  aver  that  they  were!  Let  it  not 
be  said  that  they  expected  applause,  and  were  not  ac- 
quainted with  the  sad  consequences  that  would  result 
from  the  line  of  conduct  which  they  pursued.  They 
were  neither  fools  nor  mad;  and  common  sense  was 
sufficient  to  convince  them  of  their  danger.  If  they 
had  not  been  originally  suspicious  of  it,  their  Master 
plainly  predicted  it;  and  they  had  before  their  eyes, 
the  fearful  evidence  of  what  they  were  to  expect,  in  his 
excruciating  and  ignominious  death.  They  did  not 
surely  expect  better  treatment  than  their  Lord:  and  no 
man  could,  with  such  an  example  before  him,  teach 
Christianity  from  interested  motives. 

In  justice  to  them,  therefore,  we  ought  to  conclude, 
that  they  had  the  best  of  motives  in  all  that  they  did 
and  wrote.  As  this  may  be  gathered  from  their  suf- 
ferings, so  also  may  it  be  collected  from  all  that  they 
taught.  Did  they  ever  say  any  thing  with  a  view  to 
entice  men,  or  to  purchase  the  favor  of  the  great  and 
the  noble?  Did  they  flatter  them  by  giving  license  to 
the  sins  to  which  they  were  prone,  or  by  permitting 
the  indulgence  of  their  tempers  and  lusts?  •>  Did  they 
dazzle  them  with  the  promise  of  ease,  comfort,  splen- 
dor, fame,  or  emolument?  Did  they  not  oppose  their 
prejudices,  their  principles,  their  vices,  and  their  pas- 
sions? Did  they  not  delineate  Christianity  in  faithful 
colors,  and  paint  all  the  ignominy  and  danger  involved 
in  a  profession  of  it?  Surely  this  was  not  the  way  to 
obtain  human  applause,  or  to  serve  interested  motives! 
But  what  did  they  say  of  themselves?  Let  us  hear 
the  apostle  Paul  explain  his  own  motives  to  the  elders 
of  the  Ephesian  church,  in  the  solemn  moment  of 
eternal  separation  from  them.  uYe  know,  from  the 
first  day  that  I  came  into  Asia,  after  what  manner  I 


366 

have  been  with  you  at  all  seasons,  serving  the  Lord 
with  all  humility  of  mind,  and  with  many  tears  and 
temptations  which  befel  me  by  the  lying  in  wait  of  the 
Jews;  and  how  I  kept  back  nothing  that  was  profita- 
ble unto  you,  but  have  shewed  you,  and  have  taught 
you  publicly,  and  from  house  to  house,  testifying  both 
to  the  Jews,  and  also  to  the  Greeks,  repentance  toward 
God  and  faith  toward  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  And  now, 
behold  I  go  bound  in  thespirit  unto  Jerusalem,  notknow- 
ing  the  things  which  shall  befal  me  there:  Save  that  the 
Holy  Ghost  witnesseth  in  every  city,  saying,  that  bonds 
and  imprisonments  abide  me.  But  none  of  these  things 
move  me,  neither  count  I  my  life  dear  unto  myself,  so 
that  1  might  finish  my  course  with  joy,  and  the  min- 
istry which  I  have  received  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  to 
testify  the  gospel  of  the  grace  of  God7' — Therefore 
watch,  and  remember  that  by  the  space  of  three  years, 
I  ceased  not  to  warn  every  one  night  and  day  with 
tears — t:I  have  coveted  no  man's  silver,  or  gold,  or 
apparel.  Yea.  ye  yourselves  know,  that  these  hands 
have  ministered  to  my  necessities,  and  to  them  that 
were  with  me.  I  have  shewed  you  all  things,  how 
that  so  laboring  ye  ought  to  support  the  weak;  and  to 
remember  the  words  of  our  Lord  Jesus,  how  he  said, 
It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive." — Is  this  the 
language  of  an  interested  man?  and  above  all  of  an 
interested  man  at  such  a  moment?  We  will  not  mul- 
i.;  'V  passages  in  which  similar  protestations  are  used 
rJntive  to  their  own  conduct;  and  you  are  bound  to 
!>  -licve  them,  because  neither  their  lives  nor  their  doc- 
"3  were  those  of  persons  who  are  actuated  by  in- 
terested motives.  Otherwise  they  would  soon  have 
relinquished  so  hopeless  a  scheme.  At  the  very  com- 


367 

mencement  of  their  labors  one  was  stoned,*  another 
beheaded, t  the  greater  part  of  them  scattered  over 
strange  cities,!  and  their  cause  and  their  sect  every 
where  spoken  against.  ||  You  see  them,  nevertheless, 
steadfast,  immoveable,  abounding  in  the  work  of  the 
Lord,  preaching  Jesus  with  all  diligence,  knowing  that 
their  labor  was  not  in  vain  in  the  Lord.  Surely,  we 
must  admit,  that  they  were  actuated  by  the  best  of 
motives,  in  all  that  they  did  and  wrote.  Observe, 

VII.    THAT    THEY  THEMSELVES    BELIEVED,    AND    WERE 
GUIDED  BY     THE    TRUTHS    WHICH    THEY    TAUGHT. 

This  proposition  stands  allied  to  the  preceding  one, 
and  the  same  train  of  reasoning  will  fairly  establish 
it.  They  suffered  death  for  the  cause  which  they  at- 
tempted to  promulgate,  and  this  was  a  decisive  evi- 
dence that  they  believed  it.  It  is  readily  granted  that 
martyrdom  is  no  evidence  of  the  goodness  of  a  cause 
or  of  the  truth  of  the  religion,  which  the  man  believes, 
and  for  which  he  dies.  Many  have  suffered  in  a  bad 
cause;  and  many  have  died  for  a  false  religion.  The 
enthusiasm  of  a  Roman  more  than  once  led  him  to 
sacrifice  himself  for  his  country;  and  superstition  has 
also  boasted  her  martyrs— still  boasts  them  on  the 
plains  of  Indostan,  and  among  untutored  savages. 
Martyrdom,  however,  we  may  fairly  assert  is  a  proof 
of  sincerity  in  the  person  who  suffers;  and  this  is  all 
that  we  wish  to  prove  in  the  present  instance.  We 
urge  the  sufferings  and  the  death  of  the  apostles  upon 
you,  not  as  an  evidence  of  the  truth  of  their  religion 
(it  is  founded  on  stronger  arguments  than  these,)  but 

•Acts  vii,  5?.  |Acts  xii>  2. 

*  Acts  vui,  1-4;  xi,  19  j}  Acts  xxviii,  22. 


•    368 

as  a  decisive  proof  of  their  sincerity,  and  as  an  invin- 
cible demonstration  that  they  really  believed  what 
they  taught.  You  may  add  to  this  the  simplicity  of 
their  manners,  of  their  narratives,  of  their  preaching, 
and  of  their  lives,  strongly  presumptive,  to  say  the  least, 
of  their  unaffected  sincerity.  Nor  will  any  man  be 
able  to  investigate  their  characters  and  deportment, 
without  acquitting  them  of  all  design  to  deceive.  The 
same  arguments  will  hold  good  in  favor  of  the  writers 
of  the  Old  Testament.  The  prophets  suffered  death 
for  their  predictions,  and  those  who  did  not,  manifest- 
ed, by  their  lives,  their  belief  of  the  truths  which  they 
taught. 

They  not  only  believed,  but  were  guided,  by  these 
things.  Those  only  can  enter  into  the  argument 
by  which  we  establish  this  assertion,  who  are  accus- 
tomed to  read  the  Bible;  and  indeed  he  who  opposes 
Revelation,  ought,  in  reason  and  in  justice,  to  be  as 
well  acquainted  with  the  sacred  writings,  as  the  man 
who  professedly  maintains  it.  Upon  a  comparison 
between  the  lives  of  the  apostles  and  prophets,  and 
their  writings,  we  are  persuaded  it  will  be  found,  that 
the  one  is  an  exact- transcript  of  the  other.  The 
benevolence  and  charity  which  they  recommend- 
ed to  others,  they  felt  themselves.  The  love  to  Jesus 
Christ  which  they  taught,  warmed  their  own  bosoms. 
He  was  the  object  of  their  faith,  of  their  hope,  of  their 
joy.  of  their  worship.  In  him  all  their  wishes  and 
expectations  centred;  and  for  him,  they  were  willing 
to  live  or  to  die.  They  exemplified  the  Christian  pa- 
tience and  meekness,  which  they  recommended  to 
their  hearers,  in  their  own  resignation  and  uncom- 
plaining sufferings.  They  could  make  their  appeal  to 
their  conversation  and  say,  "Brethren,  be  ye  follow- 


369 

ers  of  us,  even  as  we  are  also  of  Christ."  Upon  eve- 
ry investigation  of  their  lives  and  writings,  it  will  be 
found  that  they  themselves  were  guided  by  the  truths 
which  they  taught  to  others.  One  more  proposition 
will  conclude  what  we  have  to  advance  respecting  the 
writers  of  the  Bible;  and  indeed  it  may  be  considered 
as  a  concluding  inference  from  all  the  foregoing  series 
of  reasoning.  It  is 

VIII.  THAT  IT  APPEARS  UPON  THE  WtfOLE,  THAT  THEY 
NEITHER  COULD  BE  DECEIVED,  NOR  WOULD  DE- 
CEIVE, IN  ALL  THAT  THEY  WROTE  AND  ASSERTED. 

That  they  could  not  be  deceived,  is  evident  from 
the  nature  of  the  case.  We  have  said  that  they  were 
for  the  most  part  eye-witnesses  of  what  they  recorded; 
this  was  eminently  the  fact  in  respect  of  the  apos- 
tles. They  conversed  with  Jesus  Christ — they  saw  all 
fche  miracles,  that  he  wrought — they  were  presentjwhen 
he  expired  on  the  cross.  When  he  rose  from  the 
dead,  he  appeared  to  them,  and  to  "above  five  hun- 
dred brethren  at  once."  He  ascended  to  heaven  in 
their  presence.  He  afterwards  appeared  to  Paul  in 
the  way  to  Damascus,  and  to  John  in  the  Isle  of 

Patmos We  have  proved  the  same  respecting  the 

writers  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  particularly  Moses. 
We  have  shewn,  that  what  they  did  not  see,  they  de- 
rived from  the  most  certain  evidences,  and  drew  from 
the  purest  sources.  Now  such  was  the  nature  of  the 
circumstances  which  they  related,  and  the  nature  of 
the  evidences  which  they  possessed,  that  they  could 
not  be  deceived.  This  we  think  a  fair  inference  from 
the  general  train  of  our  reasoning. 

And  it  is  equally  evident  from  their  characters,  that 

they  would  not  deceive.    To  suppose  them  capable  of 
47 


370 

this,  is  to  lay  them  under  the  blackest  of  all  imputa- 
tions, and  to  discover  hardened  guilt,  of  which  human 
nature,  depraved  as  it  is,  appears  hardly  capable. 
We  have  proved  that  they  themselves  could  not  be 
mistaken:  then,  they  must,  if  they  deceived  at  all, 
have  voluntarily  become  "false  witnesses  of  God,"  and 
have  forged  falsehoods  from  first  to  last.  Their  lives 
were,  on  these  principles,  one  continued  scene  of  per- 
jury, hypocrisy,  and  blasphemy.  Pretending  that  God 
sanctioned  their  preaching,  and  sent  them  for  this  pur- 
pose, while  in  their  hearts  they  knew  it  to  be  false, 
was  impiety  beyond  almost  the  power  of  conception! 
In  every  instance  they  would  be  found  to  be  liars; 
and  they  must,  for  no  possible  advantage,  but  in 
face  of  every  danger,  have  deceived  their  fellow  men 
solemnly  and  deliberately,  day  after  day,  through  all 
their  lives.  They  must  have  confederated  to  do  this; 
and  have  stricken  hands  upon  an  engagement  more 
terrible  than  death,  and  blacker  than  the  designs  of 
hell  itself  ever  unfolded.  This  impious  conduct  would 
have  been  cruel  to  the  laj-t  degree.  They  were  trifling 
with  the  dearest  and  most  important  interests  of  man- 
kind— worse  than  trifling,they  were  consigning  them  in 
cold  blood  to  infamy,  to  torment,  and  to  ruin.  They 
were  leading  them  to  rely  for  peace  and  salvation  upon 
a  man  whom  they  knew  to  be  an  impostor,  and  who 
had  suffered  publicly  as  a  criminal.  They  were  bring- 
ing all  the  calamities  inseparable  from  their  religion, 
knowing  it  to  be  false,  upon  the  people  whom  they 
deceived.  They  exposed  the  lives  of  the  innocent,  in 
leading  them  to  patronize  a  guilty  fraud  (by  persuad- 
ing them  that  it  was  true)  which  the  rulers  did  not 
sanction;  and  their  blood,  on  this  supposition,  with 
the  tears  of  their  orphans,  of  their  widows,  of  their 


371 

bereaved  families,  must  have  mingled  with  the  perjury 
and  the  blasphemy  of  their  deceivers,  in  calling  down 
the  vengeance  of  heaven  against  a  combination  so  hor- 
rible. They  would,  in  a  word,  have  been  a  society 
of  the  most  infamous,  cruel,  abandoned  wretches, 
that  ever  lived  on  the  face  of  the  globe:  if,  as  they 
could  not  be  deceived,  they  were  capable  of  deceiving 
on  a  subject  so  important!  And  the  men  who  confed- 
erated with  them  in  forming  the  other  parts  of  the 
scripture,  must  have  entered  into  a  plot  to  destroy 
thousands  of  lives  here,  to  send  the  most  dreadful  ca- 
lamities on  the  earth,  and  to  ruin  the  interests  of  men 
for  ever! 

Now  calmly  examine  the  writings,  the  character, 
the  deportment  of  the  writers  of  the  Old  Testament  and 
of  the  apostles  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  say  whether  they 
appear  to  you  to  be  the  men  capable  of  such  decep- 
tion, or  likely  to  form  a  plot  so  horrible?  What  could 
induce  them  to  do  it?  What  interest  had  they  to  serve 
by  it?  It  is  not  possible!  But  as  they  could  not  be  de- 
ceived, so  every  thing  conspires  to  prove  that  they 
would  not  deceive. 

The  fact  is  simply  this.  Their  original  talents  were 
not  considerable:  their  education  was  contracted:  their 
sphere  of  life  of  the  lowest  order:  their  fears  and  un- 
belief abundant:  their  numbers  small;  and  their  minds 
bowed  in  the  first  instance  by  the  prejudices  of  their 
country,  all  which  prejudices  were  against  a  suffering 
Messiah.  When  they  consented  to  share  his  igno- 
miny, it  was  from  a  conviction  resulting  from  the  pu- 
rity of  his  life,  the  force  of  truth  in  his  teaching,  the 
integrity  of  his  character,  and  not  from  any  resem- 
blance which  they  traced  between  his  situation  and 
their  preconceived  opinions.  Every  day  developed 


372^ 

something  respecting  him  which  disappointed  their  ex- 
pectations, excited  their  astonishment,  offended  their 
pride,  and  opposed  their  views.  Their  minds  were 
slowly  enlightened,  and  they  had  not  at  the  moment 
of  his  resurrection  very  clear  views,  either  of  the 
prophecies  respecting  him,  or  of  his  testimony  respect- 
ing himself.  Let  these  circumstances  be  calmly  con- 
sidered, let  the  amount  of  them  be  deliberately  weigh- 
ed, and  it  will  be  evident  to  every  reflecting  mind,  that 
it  would  be  a  miracle  of  the  first  order,  if  twelve,  or 
rather  eleven  (for  one  of  them  betrayed  the  Lord) 
such  men,  should  have  attempted  to  palm,  as  a  fact, 
an  invention  upon  the  very  people  among  whom  it 
was  said  to  have  taken  place:  that  they  should  have 
had  the  genius  to  project  such  a  design:  and  above  all, 
that  they  should  have  been  successful  in  disseminating 
their  fabrication,  and  in  establishing  it  upon  a  basis 
which  eighteen  centuries  have  not  been  able  to  under- 
mine! Such  a  supposition  is  too  palpably  absurd  to 
bear  reasoning  upon.  If  it  be  objected  that  their  sub- 
sequent deportment  manifests  genius,  firmness,  un- 
bounded intellect,  and  astonishing  energy  of  mind,  a 
question  arises,  what  was  the  cause  of  this  change  of 
character?  We  answer  that  this  fact  is  in  itself  an  ev- 
idence of  the  truth  of  their  mission,  inasmuch  as  it  re- 
sulted from  the  sufferings  and  the  resurrection  of  the 
Savior:  it  took  place  at  a  moment  when  there  \\c\c 
thousands  of  witnesses  present — uParthians  and  Medes, 
and  Elamites,  iind  the,  dwellers  in  Mesopotamia,  and 
in  Judea,  and  Cappadoria,  in  Pontus  and  Asia,  Phry- 
gia,  and  Pampliv  lia,  in  Egypt  and  in  the  parts  of  Libya 
about  Cyrene,aiul  s( rangers  of  Rome,  Jews  and  Pros- 
elytes, Cretcs  and  Arabians:"  it  was  evinced  by  the 
gift  of  tongues,  so  that  the  multitude  wondered  to  hear 


.      373 

themselves  addresed  every  man  in  his  own  language, 
while  many  of  them  knew  that  these  very  persons 
were  before  ignorant  and  unlettered;  and  it  was  ac- 
companied by  miraculous  powers,  which  their  adver- 
saries could  neither  gainsay  nor  resist,  and  which  were 
in  force  nearly  a  century. 

The  appeals  which  they  made  were  not  the  lan- 
guage of  imposition.  Neither  in  their  preaching,  nor 
in  their  writings,  did  they  ever  lose  sight  of  the  tacts 
asserted  in  the  gospels,  and  especially  of  the  death  of 
their  Master,  in  all  its  circumstances,  and  all  its  conse- 
quences. They  did  not  cease  to  press  it  upon  the 
memory,  the  feelings,  the  hearts,  and  the  consciences 
of  those  who  attended  their  ministry,  the  major  part 
of  whom  were,  in  most  instances,  the  murderers  of  the 
Lord  of  life  and  glory.  They  laid  this  sin  to  their  charge, 
with  undaunted  courage,  with  invincible  perseverance, 
with  unshaken  fidelity,  when  they  said — "Ye  denied 
the  Holy  One,  and  the  Just,  and  desired  a  murderer 
to  be  granted  unto  you,  and  killed  the  Prince  of  Life, 
whom  God  hath  raised  from  the  dead:  whereof  we 
are  witnesses."  We  have  seen  these  faithful  appeals 
confirmed  in  their  sufferings,  this  bold  and  generous 
testimony  written  with  their  blood,  this  strong  and  re- 
sistless evidence  sealed  by  their  death! 

On  these  points  we  have  the  concessions  of  enemies. 
These  things  were  not  done  in  a  corner.  Others  were 
also  eye-witnesses  of  this  event.  The  adversaries  of 
the  primitive  Christians  cast  in  their  teeth  the  poverty 
of  their  Master's  life,  and  the  ignominy  of  his  death. 
By  these  means,  while  they  designed  to  affix  indelible 
disgrace  to  the  cause  of  Christianity,  they  decidedly 
proved  that  the  facts  recorded  in  the  gospels  respecting 
Jesus  of  Nazareth  were  strictly  and  indisputably  true. 


374 

In  their  public  records,  in  their  judicial  statements,  in 
their  epistolary  correspondence,  the  sufferings  of  the 
apostles  and  first  disciples  of  our  Lord  were  avouched, 
and  their  firmness  branded  with  the  name  of  madness. 
It  was  a  subject  of  surprise  and  amazement  to  the  heath- 
en world  that  men  would  submit  to  the  most  horrible 
tortures,  the  cruelty  of  human  ingenuity  could  invent, 
rather  than  deny  a  poor,  outcast,  obscure  Jew,  who 
suffered,  at  the  instigation  of  his  countrymen,  the 
death  of  a  murderer!  Ah,  they  knew  not  Jesus  of  Naz- 
areth! knew  not  the  secret  and  resistless  bond  which 
held  his  disciples  to  him!  knew  not  the  sweetness  of 
his  love!  But  in  the  mean  time,  they  have  left  to  ev- 
ery succeeding  generation  a  decided  testimony  that 
these  things  were  so.* 

We  detain  you  only  to  offer  two  concluding  re- 
marks respecting  the  best  mode  of  reading  the  Bible 
to  advantage.  The  first  shall  regard  the  ALLOWAN- 
CES which  should  be  made  in  consulting  this  sacred 
volume,  Whoever  has  paid  any,  the  least,  attention 
to  it,  must  recollect  that  there  are  allusions  to  customs 
which  exist  no  longer;  and  that  its  sublime  and  poetic 
parts  are  filled  with  figures  of  speech  not  altogether 
familiar  to  us.  We  are  surrounded  by  imagery,  and 
reading  a  language  perfectly  new — more  bold  and 
striking  than  these  colder  climes  and  tongues  usually 
exhibit.  When  you  take  up  the  scriptures  make 
these  several  allowances.  Remember  that  you  are 
reading  the  record  of  ages  which  have  rolled  away, 
and  of  nations,  which  have  either  long  since  perished, 
or  which  exist  no  longer  in  the  .same  form.  You 
should  allow  for  the  swelling  metaphoric  style  of  the 

«  See  the  note  of  this  Lecture,  at  the  end  of  volume. 


375 

East.  Their  mode  of  expression  is  always  bold  and 
magnificent  beyond  the  imagination  of  an  European; 
and  the  face  of  their  country  is  also  widely  different. 
You  must  remember  the  customs  then  prevalent:  these 
change  perpetually  with  the  lapse  o,f  time;  and  the 
manners  of  antiquity  were  altogether  distinct  from 
those  sanctioned  by  the  fashion  of  the  present  day. 
Consider  the  countries  in  which  they  lived.  Every 
country  has  a  mode  of  operation,  and  habits,  peculiar 
to  itself.  Recollect  the  persons  to  whom  they  wrote; 
persons  who  were  conversant  with  the  metaphors  em- 
ployed, and  with  the  facts  recorded;  persons  who  were 
contemporary  with  them,  and  who  had  the  advantage 
of  making  appeals  to  things  and  to  evidences  which 
exist  no  longer.  And  while  you  call  these  things  to 
your  memory,  do  not  forget  the  changes  which  have 
taken  place  in  all  these  particulars. 

Our  second  remark  shall  relate  to  the  SPIRIT  in  which 
the  Bible  should  be  read.  Consult  it  divested  so  far 
as  possible  of  prejudice,  and  with  a  sincere  desire  both 
to  attain  improvement,  and  to  search  out  the  truth. 
The  investigation  which  we  recommend,  lies  equally 
between  that  inactivity  which  slumbers  for  ever  over 
things  acknowledged,  and  that  impetuous  temerity 
which  relying  upon  its  own  powers  disdains  assistance, 
attempts  a  flight  beyond  the  precincts  of  lawful  subject?, 
and  with  licentious  boldness  pries  into  those  "secret 
things  which  belong  to  God."  Some  float  for  ever 
on  the  surface  of  admitted  truths,  fearful  to  rise  above 
the  level  over  which  they  have  hovered  from  the  first 
moment  of  consciousness.  These  resemble  those  birds 
which  feed  upon  the  insects  dancing  on  the  water, 
who  never  rise  into  the  air,  but  always  skim  the  sur- 
face of  the  lake,  on  the  borders  of  which  they  re- 


376 

ceived  life.  Others,  on  bold,  adventurous  wing,  rise 
into  the  trackless  regions  of  mystery,  till  they  sink 
from  the  pride  of  their  elevation,  perplexed  and  ex- 
hausted. These,  by  aiming  at  too  much  lose  every 
thing.  Because  they  have  attempted  unsuccessfully 
to  investigate  that,  which  God  has  been  pleased  to  put 
out  of  the  reach  of  human  comprehension,  they  will 
not  believe  any  thing — they  embrace  a  system  of  uni- 
versal skepticism.  So  Noah's  dove  beheld  on  every 
side  a  boundless  expansion  of  waters;  and  whether 
she  rose  or  sunk  was  equally  bewildered,  and  found 
no  rest  for  the  sole  of  her  foot.  There  is  one  point  of 
difference,  and  that  is,  that  she  returned  to  the  ark; 
but'those  whom  we  have  described,  too  often  are 
found  to  turn  despisers,  who  wonder  and  perish.  But 
the  Christian  is  bold  in  investigating  all  that  God  has 
submitted  to  his  researches,  attempts  every  thing  lean- 
ing on  Almighly  energy,  and  relies  with  implicit  con- 
fidence upon  the  written  word.  So  the  eagle  rises 
boldly  into  the  air,  keeping  the  sun  in  view,  and  builds 
her  nest  upon  a  rock. 

We  would  not  have  you,  with  the  inactive  and  su- 
pine, always  coast  the  shore:  nor  with  the  infidel  ven- 
ture into  the  boundless  ocean  without  pilot,  or  com- 
pass, or  ballast,  or  anchor:  exposed  equally  to  the 
quicksands,  to  the  rocks,  to  the  whirlpool,  and  to  the 
tempest:  but  we  are  desirous  that,  like  the  Christian, 
you  should  boldly  face,  and  patiently  endure  the  storm, 
with  the  Bible  as  your  compass,  Hope  as  you  anchor, 
God  as  your  pilot,  and  Heaven  as  your  country. 


LECTURE    XIV. 

CONCLUDING    LECTURE. 

THE  UNSEARCHABLE  GOD:  OR,  AN  ATTEMPT  TO 
PROVE  AN  ANALOGY  BETWEEN  THE  RELIGION 
OFNATUREAND  THAT  OP  THE  BIBLE,  BY  SHEW- 
ING THAT  THE  SAME  OBSCURITY  WHICH 
OVERSHADOWS  REVELATION,  EQUALLY  OVER- 
SPREADS NATURE  AND  PROVIDENCE. 

JOB  XXXVI.  14. 

Lo,  these  are  parts  of  his  ways,  but  how  little  a  por- 
tion is  heard  of  him?  but  the  thunder  of  his  power, 
who  can  understand? 

MAN  is  a  needy,  dependent  creature,  from  his  birth  to 
his  death.  His  first  cry  is  the  voice  of  want  and  help- 
lessness; his  last  tear  flows  from  the  same  source;  and 
in  no  one  intermediate  period  of  his  life,  can  he  be  pro- 
nounced independent.  His  eye,  the  moment  it  is 
opened,  is  turned  upon  another  for  assistance.  His 
limbs  must  be  sheltered  from  the  cold:  his  nutriment 
provided,  and  his  wants  supplied  by  the  care  and  ex: 
ertions  of  others:  or  he  would  perish  in  the  hour  of  his 
birth.  A  few  months  expand  his  limbs;  and  then  a 
new  train  of  wants  succeeds.  He  must  be  watched 
with  incessant  vigilance,  and  guarded  with  unceasing 
care  and  anxiety,  against  a  thousand  diseases,  which 
wait  to  precipitate  him  to  a  premature  grave.  The 
quivering  flame  of  an  existence  scarcely  communicat- 
ed, is  exposed  to  sudden  and  furious  blasts,  and  it  re- 
quires all  a  parent's  skill  to  interpose  a  screen  which 
48 


378 

may  prevent  its  extinction;  and,  alas!  after  all,  such  in- 
terposition as  human  skill  and  tenderness  can  sup- 
ply, are  often  ineffectual,  and  the  prevailing  blast  ex- 
tinguishes the  sickly  fire. 

The  child  begins  to  think,  and  a  new  field  of  exer- 
tion is  opened  to  the  mother.  He  needs  direction,  and 
is  dependent  upon  her  wisdom  and  affection  for  his 
earliest  sources  of  information.  She  watches  and  fa- 
cilitates the  dawn  of  reason.  She  teaches  her  child 
for  what  end  he  came  into  the  world;  and  in  language 
adapted  to  his  capacity,  exhibits  to  the  inquiring  mind, 
and  pours  into  the  listening  ear,  his  high  and  immortal 
destination.  Oh,  then  with  what  anxiety  she  watch- 
es the  speaking  countenance!  With  what  skill  she  di- 
rects the  passions!  With  what  assiduity  she  strives  to 
irradicate,  or  at  least  to  bring  into  subjection  his  visi- 
ble propensity  to  evil  and  the  impulses  of  a  depraved 
nature!  Who  among  us  cannot  look  back  to  this  ear- 
ly period,  and  remember  a  mother's  short,  impressive 
conversation — her  intreaties — her  caresses — her  res- 
trictions— and  her  tears? 

The  boy  advances  in  wisdom  and  in  stature,  and  in 
strength:  but  he  is  still  dependent.  And  now  he  must 
pass  into  other  hands.  There  are  many  things  which 
it  is  necessary  for  him  to  know,  and  to  learn,  in  order 
to  his  passage  through  life  with  respectability,  which  it 
is  not  a  mother's  province  to  teach  him.  Besides,  it  is 
needful  that  he  should  sojourn  fora  season  with  stran- 
.  to  prepare  him  for  the  approach  of  that  time, 
when  he  must  quit  the  paternal  roof  for  ever,  and  force 
his  way  through  the  wide  world! 

Grown  up  at  length  to  manhood,  he  is  still  depend- 
ent. 1  lc  lives  by  conferring  and  receiving  mutual  offices 
of  kindness.  It  is  not  good  for  him  to  be  alone.  He 
links  h;s  fortunes  and  his  interests,  his  hopes  and  his 


379 

Tears,  his  joys  and  his  sorrows,  with  those  of  another. 
His  duties  and  his,responsibilities,  multiply  upon  him. 
The  circle  is  widened.  He  finds  others  dependent  up- 
on him,  while  he  is  not  himself  independent.  And  all 
his  difficulties  and  sufferings  are  lightened  by  being 
divided. 

Behold  him  stretched  upon  the  bed  of  death,  hav- 
ing reached  the  extremity  of  this  transient  existence, 
still  a  poor,  dependent,  needy  creature!  To  that  heart 
he  looks  for  sympathy:  that  bosom  must  support  his 
languishing  head:  that  hand  must  adjust  the  pillow, 
and  administer  the  cordial,  and  wipe  away  the  dew  of 
death,  and  close  the  extinguished  eye.  Into  the  bos- 
om of  his  companion  through  life,  or  of  his  child,  or  of 
his  friend,  he  breathes  the  last  sigh! 

Revelation  meets  man  on  the  terms  of  his  nature, 
addresses  him,  and  suffers  him  to  address  God,  as  a 
needy  dependent  creature.  It  proves  its  divine  origin 
by  its  adaptation  to  the  wants  and  the  wishes  of  hu- 
manity. It  is  directed  to  every  man,  as  the  son  of  Ad- 
am, and  the  child  of  sorrow,  and  the  slave  of  igno- 
rance. But  vain  man  will  be  wise:  will  not  be > in- 
structed: will  believe  nothing  which  he  cannot  cbm- 
prehend;  and  rejecting  the  truth,  will  not  come  to  the 
light,  lest  his  deeds  should  be  reproved. 

When  we  speak  of  magnitude  and  diminutiveness,  of 
beauty  and  homeliness,  of  wisdom  and  folly,  it  is  by 
comparison;  and  each  of  these  terms  are  exchanged, 
the  former  for  the  latter,  when  the  objects  to  which 
they  were  applied,  are  placed  by  the  side  of  something 
more  magnificent,  more  lovely,  more  sapient.  The 
productions  of  human  skill  are  grand;  and  we  pro- 
nounce the  "solemn  temple"  magnificent,  when  con- 
trasted with  surrounding  and  inferior  buildings:  but 
when  set  in  comparison  with  the  temple  of  the  sky,  it 


280 

is  magnificent  no  longer — it  shrinks  into  nothing.  I 
see  a  picture  of  the  evening:  I  admire  the  painters  art 
in  so  judiciously  blending  his  light  and  his  shade;  a  soft 
and  sober  tint  overspreads  the  whole  piece,  and  I  pro- 
nounce it  beautiful; — but  when  I  compare  it  with  the 
sunset  of  nature,  when  I  see  the  west  inflamed  with  ethe- 
real fire,  blushing  with  ten  thousand  vivid  and  various 
splendors,  while  the  distant  mist  slowly  creeps  along 
the  line  of  the  horizon,  and  forms  a  contrast  to  the  bril- 
liancy above  it  the  effort  of  art  is  swallowed  up  in  the 
sublimity  of  nature — and  it  is  beautiful  no  longer.  I 
admire  the  genius  and  the  understanding  of  the  philo- 
sopher; I  reverence  the  superior  intelligence  of  a  Solo- 
mon; I  look  up  humbled  to  a  Newton,  exploring  the 
immensity  of  yonder  firmanent,  reducing  the  apparent 
confusion  of  its  orbs  to  order,  laying  the  planetary  sys- 
tem under  laws,  tracing  their  orbits,  and  scrutinizing 
their  nature — and  I  pronouce  these,  wise  men:  but  I 
raise  my  eyes —  and  behold  an  higher  order  of  crea- 
tures around  the  throne  of  God,  before  whom  even 
Newton  is  a  child;  and  presuming  into  "the  heaven  of 
heavens,"  I  am  lost  in  IHM,  who  charges  even  these  su- 
perior beings  with  folly." 

The  powers  of  the  human  mind  are  said  to  be  large 
and  capacious:  they  are  so  when  compared  with  those 
of  every  other  terrestrial  being  in  the  creation  of  God. 
Man  walks  abroad,  the  monarch  of  this  world.  Of  all 
the  diversified  tribes  which  the  hand  of  Deity  former!, 
into  man  alone  was  '-breathed  the  breath  of  life,  and 
he  became  a  living  soul."  The  animal  soon  reaches 
his  narrow  standard,  and  never  passes  it.  The  pow- 
ers of  man  are  in  a  constant  state  of  progression;  and 
probably  in  the  world  of  spirits  they  w'.ii  he.  found  to 
be  illimitable.  But  whatever  they  may  be  in  t S 
ture,  they  are  at  present  contracted  in  their  operations. 


381 

To  what  do  they  amount  when  called  into  action?  To 
speak  a  few  languages:  to  decypher  a  few  more  in  a 
various  character:  to  ascertain  here  and  there  a  <• 
by  tracing  it  upwards  from  its  effects:  to  number  sev- 
en planets  revolving  round  the  sun:  to  send  imagina- 
tion into  infinite  space  in  search  of  other  systems,  till 
she  is  bewildered  and  tired  in  her  progress:  to  float  on 
the  bosom  of  the  air  suspended  from  a  globe  of  silk; 
or  to  sail  over  the  surface  of  the  ocean  in  a  vessel  of 
his  own  construction:  to  ascend  the  hoary  summit  of  the 
loftiest  mountain,  or  to  penetrate  a  fathom  or  two  the 
surface  of  the  earth:  these  are  the  boundaries  of  hu- 
man effort.  And  in  searching  out  the  little  he  is  capa- 
ble of  learning,  what  difficulties  he  must  meet!  what 
embarrassments  he  must  surmount!  what  labors  he 
must  undergo!  what  time  he  must  expend!  And  after 
all,  how  little  has  he  gained!  how  much  remains  un- 
explored! how  uncertain,  and  probably  how  errone- 
ous, are hisbest grounded  conclusions!  And  if  weelevate 
our  thoughts  to  those  spirits,  whose  powers  in  our  lim- 
ited apprehension  are  unbounded,  we  shall  find  upon 
inquiry  that  they  also  are  limited  creatures.  There 
are  subjects  present  to  the  divine  mind  which  the  an- 
gels do  not  know:  mysteries,  which  the  capacity,  of 
Gabriel  cannot  fathom,  andswhich  the  intelligence  of  a 
seraph  cannot  unravel.  How  much  less  "man  who 
is  a  worm,  and  the  son  of  man  who  is  but  a  worm?" 
The  subject  for  discussion  this  night,  is  thus  pro- 
posed— THE  UNSEARCHABLE  GOD:  OR,  AN  '  ATTEMPT 

TO  PROVE  AN  ANALOGY  BETWEEN  THE  RELIGION  OF 
NATURE  AND  THAT  OF  THE  BlBLE,  BY  SHEWING  THAT 
THE  SAME  OBSCURITY  WHICH  OVERSHADOWS  REVE- 
LATION, EQUALLY  OVERSPREADS  NATURE  AND  PROV- 
IDENCE. 


382 

Of  this  unsearchable  Being,  this  infinite  Mind,  Job 
writes;  and  we  are  now  to  contemplate  rather  what 
we  do  not  know  of  him,  than  that  which  we  are  able 
to  comprehend:  since  upon  the  closest  investigation  of 
the  whole  which  he  has  submitted  to  our  researches, 
we  are  compelled  to  conclude,  "Lo,  these  are  parts  of 
his  ways,  and  how  little  a  portion  is  heard  of  him? 
but  the  thunder  of  his  power  who  can  understand?" 
We  shall  apply  these  words,  in  order  to  the  develope- 
ment  of  our  subject, 

I.  To  THE  WORKS  OF  CREATION. 

II.  To  THE  MYSTERIES  OF  PROVIDENCE. 

III.  To  THE  INVISIBLE  WORLDS: 

IV.  To  THE   WORD   OF    REVELATION; — and    this 
arrangement  is  justified  by  the  whole  connexion  of 
the  text.     We  apply  them, 

I.    TO    THE    WORKS    OF  "CREATION. 

"He  strctcheth  out  the  north  over  the  empty  place 
and  hangeth  the  earth  upon  nothing." 

To  the  first  gaze  of  man  newly-created,  the  temple 
of  the  sky  presented  itself,  filled  with  glorious  objects, 
which  furnished  food  for  his  curiosity,  and  employ- 
ment for  the  new-born  powers  of  his  mind.  He  saw 
the  whole  expansion  covered  with  stars  twinkling 
through  the  blue  ether.  He  beheld  the  sun  rise  in  the 
east,  and  disappear  behind  the  western  hiHs.  The 
moon  occupied  his  vacated  seat  in  the  heavens,  and 
every  night  changed  her  hour  of  rising.  As  yet  the 
laws  by  which  these  "greater  lights"  are  governed  were 
unknown;  and  whether  the  lesser  sparks  were  mere 
ornaments  of  the  curtain  stretched  out  on  every  side, 
or  worlds  and  suns  diminished  by  distance,  the  man 
doubted:  for  in  the  infancy  of  time,  philosophy  had 


383 

not  kindled  her  torch,  and  every  thing  was  to  be 
learned.  He  regarded  it,  however,  as  a  scene  of  mag- 
nificence; and  considered  the  whole  as  the  work  of 
him,  "parts  of  whose  ways"  only,  are  after  all  submit- 
ted to  our  investigation. 

As  years  rolled  on,  a  multitude  of  researches  into 
nature  were  instituted.  Art  lent  her  auxiliary  powers: 
a  few  instruments  were  invented  to  aid  the  eye.  or  to 
help  the  imagination;  and  a  regular  inquiry  into  the 
secret  laws  of  this  great  universe,  was  formed  and 
prosecuted.  Time  gradually  matured  the  crude  and 
undigested  hypotheses  of  the  enlightened  "mind.  Each 
man  took  his  department.  One  applied  the  telescope 
to  the  organ  of  vision,  and  ascertained  the  nature,  and 
read  the  laws,  of  yonder  shining  orbs.  Another  bent 
his  attention  to  the  productions  of  the  globe,  and  to 
the  animals  that  move  upon  its  surface.  A  third  in- 
vestigated the  properties  of  water  and  of  air,  and  the 
several  uses  to  which  they  are  applicable.  A  fourth 
studied  the  structure  of  the  human  !V:.-\;>.e,  and  applied 
his  knowledge  to  the  purpose  of  relieving  the  springs 
of  life.  These  all  were  still  acquainted  only  with  "parts 
of  his  \vays." 

When  the  astronomer  has  spent  his  whole  life  in 
reading  the  splendid  volume  which  the  night  unfurls., 
what  has  he  at  length  learned?  He  uas  proved  that 
the  globe  on  which  we  live  is  spherical:  that  it  turns 
upon  its  axis  once  in  twenty- four  hours,  and  revolves 
round  the  sun  in  twelve  months:  that  yonder  glorious 
orb,  the  centre  of  our  system,  is  a  body  of  fire:*  that 
the  planets  are  probably  worlds  like  our  own:  that  the 
moon  appears  to  have  seas  and  continents,  islands  and 

*  See  the  note  at  the  end  of  the  volume. 


384 

mountains:  thus  far  can  he  go,  but  no  further!  He 
launches  into  infinite  space,  which  Job  here  calls  "the 
empty  place,"  and  is  lost!  Those  lights  that  sparkle 
at  distances  so  immense,  may,  or  may  not,  be  suns, 
and  the  centres  of  other  systems.  All  is  uncertainty 
and  perplexity;  and  the  comet  that  shoots  across  the 
system  of  which  our  own  world  is  a  part,  wheels 
through  its  orbits,  and  round  the  sun,  flies  off,  and  de- 
rides the  efforts  of  man,  to  describe  its  sphere,  or  to 
foretel  its  return!  **Lo,  these  are  parts  of  his  ways!" 

Human  ingenuity  and  human  courage  have  been 
exhausted  idT  reiterated  attempts  to  approach  the  poles: 
but  life  cannot  be  sustained  among  their  horrors.  The 
spark  of  existence  is  quenched  amid  snows  that  never 
melt:  ices,  that  resist  the  impression  of  the  sun's  dis. 
tant  rays:  a  winter  that  never  ceases  to  rage:  a  cold 
that  freezes  the  vitals!  And  if  the  man  were  able  to 
reach  these  extremities  of  the  globe,  what  could  he 
learn  more  than  Job  ascertained  thousands  of  years 
back:  that  "he  stretcheth  out  the  north  over  the  empty 
place,  and  hangeth  the  earth  upon  nothing:"  that  hav- 
ing suspended  the  globe,  and  drawn  its  orbit,  it  hangs 
self-sustained,  as  human  skill  could  not  balance  a 
feather.  Philosophy  needs  poles  to  explain  its  revolu- 
tions; and  imagination  must  be  assisted  by  supposing 
a  line  drawn  through  the  globe  and  extended  obliquely 
to  the  north  star:  these  things  the  contraction  of  em- 
powers require  science  to  supply,  that  we  may  com- 
prehend more  easily  the  laws  of  nature:  but  he  who 
le  the  world  gave  it  not  these  encumbrances,  and 
pois-ed  in  empty  space,  without  any  support  but 
•ommand. — <;Lo,  these  are  parts  of  his  ways.1' 

lie  who  spends  his  life  in  scrutinizing  the  minutisc 
of  nature  is  puxzled  at  every  step  of  his  investigation; 


385 

and  in  the  open  fields  understands  as  little  of  the  un- 
searchable   God,   as   the    astronomer   who    wanders 
bewildered  among  the  planets.      A  blade  of  grass,  an 
ear  of  wheat,  an  acorn,  plunges  him  into  difficulties, 
from  which  neither  reason  nor  philosophy  can  extri- 
cate him.      He  knows  not  how  that  diminutive  and 
spiral  leaf,  upon  which  he  tramples,  grows  and  vege- 
tates!    Why  must  that  grain  of  corn  die,  before  it  can 
spring  up?      And  how   is  it.  that  a  particle  in  it  no 
larger  than  an  atom,  the  only  particle  that  survives 
the  corruption  of  the  grain,  will  multiply,  and  increase, 
and  produce  ^thirty,  sixty,  an  hundred  fold?"     How 
inconceivable  that  an  insignificant  acorn  should  con- 
tain all  the  component  principles  of  a  stately  oak,  the 
pride  of  the  forest!      In  fact,  a  particle  of  sand,  and  a 
drop  of  water,  are  replete  with  subjects  of  curiosity 
and  of  wonder.     The  air  which  we  breathe,  refuses  to 
submit  the  whole  of  its  properties  to  our  researches. 
In   vain  it  is  attempted  to  be  exhausted,  compressed, 
tortured — it  is  understood  to  be  elastic,  to  rest  with  an 
incredible  pressure  upon  the  surface  of  the  body  equally 
on  all  parts,  and  we  cannot  press  the  matter  further. 
He   who  bestowed  it  alone  can  make  the  thin  fluid 
which  the  lungs  inhale  to  sustain  life,  the  vehicle  of 
death:    and  he  can  heighten  its  ratification  to  a  pitch 
too  subtile  for  the  organs  adapted  to  its  action,  or  load 
it  with  gross  and  fatal  vapors,  and  thus  constitute  it 
the  instrument  of  mortality  in  another  shape. — c'Lo, 
these  are  parts  of  his  ways." 

He  who  attends  to  the  structure  of  the  human  frame, 
may,  from  little  knowledge  of  its  parts  which  he  is 
able  to  obtain,  trace  the  progress  of  disease,  and  allay 
the  fermentation  and  fever  of  the  blood,  by  medicine, 

or  by  diminishing  the  quantity  of  the  heated  fluid:  lie 
40 


386 

ijiay  assist  the  efforts  of  nature,  and  counteract  in 
some  measure,  by  the  skilful  application  of  science,  the 
power  of  disease:  but  he  cannot  restore  a  single"  fibre  de- 
stroyed, nor  protract  the  life  a  moment  beyond  its  ap- 
pointed period;  and,  after  all,  he  can  know  but  the 
more  obvious  parts  of  this  complicated  machine,  while 
its  secret  springs  escape  his  most  diligent  researches. 
"Lo,  these  are  parts  of  his  ways,  and  how  little  a  por- 
tion is  heard  of  him?"  As  in  the  works  of  CREA- 
TION, so  is  the  Deity  equally  unsearchable, 

II.    IN  THE  MYSTERIES  OF  PROVIDENCE. 

*-IIe  holdeth  back  the  face  of  his  throne,  and  spread- 
cth  his  cloud  upon  it." 

Most  eminently  in  this  respect  "parts"  only  "of  his 
ways"  are  submitted  to  our  understanding;  and  he 
who  objects  to  Revelation,  because  it  involves  in  it 
mysteries  which  he  cannot  fathom,  ought,  to  be  con- 
sistent, on  the  same  principles  to  deny  the  superinten- 
dence of  Providence,  to  reject  the  religion  of  nature 
(so  called)  and  to  doubt  his  own  existence,  all  of 
which  include  an  equal  and  correspondent  degree  of 
obscurity  and  uncertainty.  The  history  of  the 
world  presents  scenery  incessantly  changing;  and 
without  being  able  to  assign  a  reason  for  it,  we  see 
this  nation,  rising  into  distinction  and  that,  falling  into 
irretrievable  desolation.  One  empire  is  swallowed  up 
of  another.  The  politics  of  this  world  preser.t  a  dis- 
tant chaos,  where  all  sorts  of  contrarieties  arc 
blended  together;  and  it  is  the  voice  of  God  alone  that 
ran  hush  the  uproar,  and  silence  the  strife;  the  hand  of 
God  alone  that  can  harmoni/e  these  contending  prin- 
•  •'.ples,  and  reconcile  these  violent  oppositions;  and  the 
'lorn  of  God  alone  that  can  command  a  beautiful 


387 

world  to  emerge  from  this  dark,  disordered,  formless 
abyss.  Here,  we  see  a  man  signalizing  himself  upon 
this  great  theatre,  led  by  an  invisible  hand,  surmount- 
ing opposition,  and  performing  seeming  impossibilities. 

The  strength  of  nations  melts  before  him;  and  with 
resistless  energy  he  overruns  with  his  forces  the  might- 
iest kingdoms.  He  goes  on  to  add  dominion,  to  do- 
minion, t  is  he  has  subjugated  the  world;  and  this  for 
no  apparent  reason!  Such  was  Alexander;  and  mod- 
ern history  may  be  thought  to  present  his  counterpart! 
Again,  we  see  a  large  empire  dismembered — swallow- 
ed up  in  a  night,  or  gradually  mouldering  by  the  revolt 
of  this  and  the  other  province — all  apparently  the 
work  of  chance — all  indisputably  the  operation  of  an 
infinite,  and  unsearchable  Agent.  So  the  extent  of 
Alexander's  conquests,  was  equalled  only  by  their  ra- 
pidity; and  with  correspondent  velocity,  after  his  death 
his  empire  hastened  to  ruin:  till  Rome  trod  in  his  foot- 
steps, and  again  held  the  world  in  chains.  So  Cyrus 
was  conducted  by  an  invisible  hand  to  victory;  and 
Babylon  fell  in  a  single  night. 

By  the  aid  of  Revelation  we  obtain  a  little  lighf  on 
this  obscure  subject.  We  are  led  behind  the  scene,  and 
a  "part"  of  the  whole  is  developed.  One  or  two  of 
the  wheels  of  the  machine  are  submitted  to  our  exam- 
ination, that  we  may  gather  from  our  inspection  of  the 
construction  of  these,  the  harmony  and  consistency,  the 
wisdom  and  stability,  the  power  and  immensity  of  the 
whole;  and  that  we  may  be  convinced  that  he  who  con- 
descends now  to  explain  one  or  two  enigmas,  can,  and 
will  hereafter,  in  his  own  time  and  way,  explain  all.  We 
see  why  Alexander  was  permitted  to  conquer — that 
the  gospel  of  Jesus  might  be  facilitated  in  its  progress 
by  the  boundaries  of  empires  being  broken  up,  and  a 


388 

free  intercourse  subsisting  in  all  parts  of  the  globe: 
and  why  Augustus  decreed  an  enrolment — that  Joseph 
and  Mary  might  be  called  from  their  obscurity,  and 
the  Messiah  born,  according  to  the  decision  of  prophe- 
cy, at  Bethlehem.  The  tide  of  human  affairs,  how- 
ever agitated  and  impeded  by  counter-currents,  swells 
in  its  progress,  and  amid  all  its  windings  sets  irresista- 
bly  towards  the  ocean  of  the  divine  purposes,  in  which 
it  is  ingulfed  and  lost. — uLo,  these  are  penis  of  his 
ways!  but  how  little  a  portion  is  heard  of  him?'' 

If  we  withdraw  our  attention  from  the   affairs   of 
empires,  and  selecting  a  family,  fix  it  upon  an  individ- 
ual, the  same  perplexity  appears  upon  the  surface    of 
his  trials;  and  the  same  measure  of  illumination  is  cast 
upon  the  darkness  of  his  path,  when  God  condescends 
to  unravel  a  portion  of  his  own  designs.       We  will 
appeal  to  the  experience  of  that  patriarch,  whose  sin- 
gular providential  trials  have  rendered  him  so  often  an 
object  of  selection  to  illustrate  this  assertion.       Who, 
that  saw  the  situation  of  Jacob,  reduced  to  despair  by 
the  mysterious  disappearance  of  his  darling  son,   the 
detention  of  Simeon,  and  the  demand  for  Benjamin  to 
go  into  a  strange  country,  a  country  in  which  his  broth- 
er was  imprisoned,  would  not  have  said,  as  he  did. 
"All  these  things  are  against  me?'       We   read  these 
hallowed  pages,  and  perceive  that  the  loss  of  his  first 
child  was  to  prcsr.xv  his  own  life,  and  that  of  all  his 
family;  and  that  the  imprisonment  of  a  second,  and 
the  demand  for  the  third,  were  the  means  of  the  devc- 
lopement  of  the  whole,  and  restored  him  to  the  arms 
of  his  long  lamented  Joseph! — "Lo,  these  are  parts  of 
his  ways!"     I  low  small  istlir  pivport'mn  of  providen- 
tial mystery  which  is  explained!  I  low  large  that  which 
is  yet  left  involved  in  (•  »,  and  perplexed  in  end- 


389 

less  intricacy;  How  often  he  passes  by  us  and  we  per- 
ceive  him  not:  he  works  on  our  right  and  on  our  left 
hand,  and  we  cannot  trace:  we  hear  the  sound  of  his 
footsteps,  unable  to  behold  him!  uHe  holdeth  back 
the  face  of  his  throne,  and  spreadeth  his  cloud  upon 
it."  On  the  testimony  of  the  scriptures  a  Christian 
will  believe  that  "all  things  work  together  for  good  to 
them  that  love  God,  to  them  that  are  the  called  ac- 
cording to  his  purpose:"  but  how  they  co-operate  is 
known  only  to  HIM  who  usees  the  end  from  the  begin- 
ning," and  whose  wonder-working  hand  educes  good 
out  of  evil.  We  know  but  little;  and  that  little,  how 
imperfectly!  "Lo,  these  are  parts  of  his  ways!  but 
how  little  a  portion  is  heard  of  him?"  Again  we  apply 
these  words, 

III.    TO    THE  INVISIBLE  WORLDS. 

"Hell  is  naked  before  him,  and  destruction  hath  no 
covering." 

We  all  look  forward  with  anxiety  and  suspense  to  that 
unknown  state  to  which  we  hasten.  When  we  miss 
from  the  circle  of  our  friendships,  the  companions  of 
our  way,  we  cast  many  a  wishful  glance  across  the 
abyss  at  our  own  feet,  and  make  many  a  fruitless  at- 
te  mpt  to  penetrate  the  obscurity  that  hides  its  secrets 
from  our  inquiring  eyes.  There  was  a  time  when 
the  conscious  heart  of  man  vibrated  with  the  palpita- 
tions of  fearful  anticipation  and  suspense,  as  he  de- 
scended '-the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death;"  for  Rev- 
elation was  not  there  to  guide  and  to  support  his 
trembling  and  uncertain  steps.  Ah,  then  how  bitter 
was  the  parting  sigh!  Then  the  strained  eye- balls 
were  turned  towards  the  mouth  of  the  vale  where  the 
last  glimmerings  of  light  lingered;  and  as  the  invisible 


39Q 

hand  irresistibly  urged  the  reluctant  wretch  forwards, 
horror  and  dismay  suspended  all  his  faculties;  chill 
despair  crept  through  all  his  vitals,  and  brooded  heavy 
at  his  heart;  and  a  darkness  which  might  be  felt,  op- 
pressed and  overwhelmed  the  departing  spirit.  Bless- 
ed be  the  hand  that  has  rolled  the  cloud  from  the 
mouth  of  the  grave,  and  for  ever  chased  these  accumu- 
lated Jiorrors!  '-Blessed  be  the  God  and  Father  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  according  to  his  abundant 
mercy  hath  begotten  us  again  to  a  lively  hope,  by  the 
resurrection  of  Jesus  from  the  dead,  to  an  inheritance 
incorruptible,  and  undtiiled,  and  that  fadeth  not 
away!"  Now  as  we  appoach  that  awful  hour  in 
which  the  strongest  powers  of  nature  fail,  the  visions 
of  God  burst  upon  the  enraptured  sight:  the  melody 
of  heaven  floats  along  the  air,  and  thrills  through  the 
soul  of  the  dying  believer:  angels  wait  to  ''minister  to 
the  heirs  of  salvation;"  Jesus,  the  friend  of  sinners,  is 
present  to  close  the  dim  and  fixed  eyes:  an  energy 
more  than  mortal  is  vouchsafed;  and  death  is  swal- 
lowed up  in  victory! 

It  is  no  longer  a  matter  of  inquiry  and  of  uncertain- 
ty, of  conjecture  and  of  hope,  that  the  soul  is  immor- 
tal: the  die  is  cast,  and  the  fact  is  indisputably  proved. 
"Life  and  immortality  are  brought  to  light  by  the  gos- 
pel." A  thousand  dying  testimonies  have  proved  the 
stability  of  revealed  truth,  lie  who  emerged  from 
the  dark  dominions  of  drath,  as  the  forerunner  of  his 
people,  spoiled  him  of  !  ;md  bore  away  the 

3  of  his  prison  in  triumph  to  heaven.  The  throne 
of  the  kinu;  of  terrors  already  trembles,  and  nods  to 
its  fall.  "The  hour  is  coming  when  all  that  are  in 
their  graves  shall  hear  the  voice  of  the  Son  of  God, 
and  shall  come  forth."  His  empire  shall  be  depopu- 


391 

lated,  his  captives  set  free,  his  very  being  annihilated. 
Rejoice,  Oye  heavens,  for  the  King  of  Kings  has  van- 
quished the  Power  which  clouded  your  beauties,  and 
which  will  extinguish  the  radiance  of  your  orbs!  Re- 
joice, for  the  Savior  shall  reign  till  all  enemies  are  sub- 
dued under  his  feet;  and  "the  last  enemy  that  shall  be 
destroyed,  is  death!"  Rejoice,  for  he  will  create  you 
anew,  and  rekindle  all  your  faded  glories,  with  a  lustre 
which  shall  never  be  impaired!  Shout  for  joy,  ye  re- 
deemed, for  the  day  of  the  restitution  of  all  things 
draweth  nigh! — Hear  it,  ye  nations,  and  let  the  voice 
of  triumph  thunder  through  all  your  islands  and  all 
your  continents!  Hear  it,  ye  angels,  and  strike  your 
harps  in  sympathy  with  the  sons  of  mortality,  the 
fellow-heirs  with  you  of  the  same  kingdom;  and  aid 
their  feeble  voices,  by  adding  the  melody  of  your 
songs  to  their  triumph  over  death!  Hear  it,  ye  spirits, 
of  just  men  made  perfect,  and  blend  your  joys  with 
the  gratitude  of  your  brethren  according  to  the  flesh! 
Sound  the  trumpet  of  victory  through  the  dreary 
chambers  of  the  grave — the  long-silent  habitations  of 
the  dead;  and  while  the  unconscious  dust  lies  sleeping 
in  these  low  and  mournful  vaults,  hail,  in  your  invis- 
ible world,  ye  glorified  saints,  the  dawn  of  that  ap- 
proaching morning,  when  your  ashes  shall  be  ran- 
somed from  the  tomb,  and  time  and  death  shall  ex- 
pire together! 

It  is  also  decided  that  a  two  fold  portion  awaits  the 
departed  spirit,  a  world  of  endless  joy,  or  of  endless 
woe.  A  prison  where  the  heart  hardens  as  it  suffers; 
and  the  vials  of  divine  wrath  cannot  be  exhausted: 
or  a  world  of  bliss,  the  habitation  of  God,  of  angels, 
of  departed  saints,  of  holiness,  of  perfection,  of  inex- 
tinguishable happiness.  In  the  scriptures,  the  imagin- 


392 

ation  and  the  reason  are  employed  in  contemplating 
regions  of  horror,  in  which  the  worm  dieth  not,  and 
the  fire  is  not  quenched;  but  the  man  who  rejected 
divine  Compassion  is  delivered  over  to  remorse,  and 
anguish,  and  darkness,  and  despair,  and  unknown 
misery:  or,  these  powers  of  the  mind  are  overwhelmed 
in  the  vision  of  the  palace  of  God,  and  the  unshaken 
kingdom  which  he  has  prepared  for  the  righteous; 
and  as  the  armies  of  the  redeemed  pass  before  us,  the 
voice  from  heaven  proclaims — "They  shall  hunger  no 
more,  neither  thirst  any  more,  neither  shall  the  sun 
light  on  them,  nor  any  heat.  For  the  lamb  which  is 
in  the  midst  of  the  throne,  shall  feed  them,  and  shall 
lead  them  to  living  fountains  of  wraters:  and  God  shall 
wipe  away  all  tears  from  their  eyes." 

When  you  have  explored  these  invisible  worlds  by 
the  aid  of  revelation,  much  obscurity  still  hovers  over 
them.  Their  existence  is  clearly  ascertained,  but  few 
particulars  respecting  these  unknown  lands,  have 
reached  these  remote  regions.  We  have  yet  every 
thing  to  learn  respecting  their  nature,  the  nature  of 
their  inhabitants,  and  the  nature  of  the  employments 
attached  to  them.  "Lo,  these  are  parts  of  his  ways! 
but  how  little  a  portion  is  heard  of  him?"  And  if  all 
the  operations  of  nature,  the  mysteries  of  Providence, 
and  the  secrets  of  the  invisible  worlds,  were  developed, 
still  these  all  are  but  "parts  of  his  ways!"  We  apply 
this  language  once  more, 

IV.    TO    THE   WORD   OF    REVELATION. 

Even  in  this  volume  "how  little  a  portion  is  heard 
of  him!" 

Here,  those  truths  which  are  of  most  importance  to 
us  as  dying  men,  are  plainly  revealed.  We  feel  forei- 


393 

bly  our  relation  to  God,  "the  Judge  of  all."  We  be- 
hold human  nature  emerging  from  the  ruins  of  the 
fall,  and  triumphing  over  the  curse.  We  perceive  the 
devastation  introduced  by  the  transgression  of  our  first 
parent,  repaired  by  the  obedience  and  death  of  the 
Second  Adam,  who  "is  the  Lord  from  heaven."  We 
see  Jesus  "made  a  little  lower  than  the  angels"  for 
Our  sakes,  afterwards  "crowned  with  glory  and  honor," 
as^our  surety  and  representative.  He  suffered  "the 
just  for  the  unjust  to  bring  us  to  God."  He  was 
''lifted  up  that  he  might  draw  all  men  unto  him." 
And  "through  him  we  all  have  access  by  one  Spirit 
to  the  Father." 

The  Holy  Spirit  is  represented  as  descending  to  ap- 
ply all  the  blessings  arising  from  his  death  to  the 
wounded  conscience.  The  image  of  God  is  restored 
to  the  heart.  The  bosom  becomes  an  habitation  of 
the  Most  High.  It  is  no  longer  a  scene  of  anarchy, 
the  seat  of  tumultuous  passions;  but  the  residence  of 
peace,  and  joy,  and  hope,  and  holiness,  as  the  pledge 
of  still  more  refined  and  exalted  felicity  to  come. 

Connected  with  these  solemn  truths  are  promises 
suited  to  every  possible  circumstance  in  human  life, 
and  adapted  to  all  the  difficulties  which  press  upon  the 
man  in  passing  through  this  valley  of  tears.  In  this, 
one  book  is  found  "whatsoever  things  are  true,  what- 
soever things  are  honest,  whatsoever  things  are  just, 
whatsoever  things  are  pure,  whatsoever  things  are 
lovely,  whatsoever  things  are  of  good  report:"  in  a 
word,  whatsoever  things  are  "profitable  for  doctrine, 
for  reproof,  for  correction,  and  for  instruction  in 
righteousness."  But  when  you  have  laid  together  all 
the  discoveries  of  this  volume,  you  must  confess — 
"Lo,  these  are  parts  of  his  ways!  but  how  little  a  por- 
tion is  heard  of  him?" 


394 

It  is  freely  conceded  to  infidelity,  that  there  are  in 
this  volume  "many  things  hard  to  be  understood-/' 
difficulties  which  cannot  be  surmounted,  and  myste- 
ries which  cannot  be  explained.  But  who  does  not 
perceive,  from  the  train  of  discussion  pursued  this 
evening,  that  in  this  very  point  consists  its  analogy  to 
nature  and  to  Providence?  that  it  bears  the  character 
of  the  unsearchable  God  impressed  upon  it?  that  it 
forms  a  part,  and  only  a  part,  of  the  same  mysterious 
plan,  and  the  same  great  operations,  which  are  carry- 
ing forwards  above  us,  around  us,  beneath  us,  wher- 
ever the  hand  of  God  is — and  that  is  every  where? 
Who  does  not  trace  in  the  Bible  the  same  features  of 
clearness  and  of  obscurity — the  same  combination  of 
light  and  of  darkness — found  in  every  thing  else  con- 
nected with  the  Deity;  and  to  be  expected  in  the  com- 
munications made  by  an  infinite  mind,  to  a  finite 
capacity?  Who  does  not  see  that  the  same  obscurity 
which  overshadows  revelation,  equally  overspreads 
nature  and  Providence?  Who  can  deny,  on  these 
principles,  the  position  which  we  wish  to  establish: 
that  no  conclusion  can  be  drawn  against  the  Bible  on 
account  of  its  mysteries;  but  rather,  that  they  furnish 
an  evidence  that  it  is  indeed  a  revelation  from  him, 
who  is  equally  past  finding  out  in  all  his  ways? 

All  these  things  are  but  the  image  of  the  invisible 
God:  when  you  have  passed  through  them  all,  you  are 
only  on  the  threshold  of  the  temple  of  his  works.  He 
that  wearies  his  rye  in  tracing  the  systems  that  arc 
visible  in  the  starry  heavens,  and  his  imagination  in 
conceiving  of  myriads  beyond  these,  leaves  half  the 
works  of  God  unexplored,  and  an  infinity  of  systems 
unconceived.  lie  that  searches  into  the  mystery  of 
Providence,  and  by  the  aid  of  revelation  unravels  a 


395 

portion  of  his  operations,  has  only  seen,  Hke  Moses,  a 
part  of  his  glory,  but  "the  cloud"  is  yet  spread  over 
"the  face  of  his  throne."  He  that  explores  the  in- 
visible worlds  by  the  light  of  revelation,  only  sweeps 
over  their  surface,  but  must  die  to  learn  their  secrets. 
He  that  reads  in  this  volume  the  nature  of  God,  his 
relation  to  us,  the  way  of  reconciliation,  and  the  plan 
of  redemption,  has  learned  only  in  part  what  God  has 
done,  and  what  he  has  laid  up  for  them  that  fear  him. 
The  tale  will  be  unfolding  through  all  the  revolving 
periods  of  eternity.  Some  mysteries  will  be  incessant- 
ly explaining,  some  new  discoveries  of  divine  grace 
continually  making — and  we  shall  ever  be  learning 
what  are  "the  heights  and  depths,  the  breadths  and 
lengths,  of  the  love  of  Christ,  which  passeth  knowl- 
edge." For  the  present  we  leave  the  subject  exhaust- 
ed precisely  at  the  point  where  we  began:  <  Lo,  these 
are  parts  of  his  ways!  and  how  little  a  portion  is 
heard  of  him?" 

"BUT    THE   THUNDER  OF  HIS  POWER  WHO  CAN    UNDER- 


STAND." 


If  the  radiance  of  these  material  orbs  is  so  insup- 
portable, and  the  light  of  the  noontide  sun  blinds  the 
organs  of  vision:  if  the  mysteries  of  providence  are  so 
inscrutable,  and  his  superintendence  of  human  affairs 
so  irresistible:  if  the  invisible  worlds  are  so  sublimely 
obscure,  and  he  reigns  unresisted  over  them:  if  the 
beams  of  his  mercy  shining  through  the  revelation  of 
divine  love  are  so  overwhelming;  Oh!  what  must  be 
the  unquenchable  fire  of  his  indignation!  "The  thun- 
der of  his  power  who  can  understand?" 

If  when  he  descended  in  the  cool  of  the  day  to 
judge  our  first  parents,  they  shrunk  with  horror  from 


396 

the  face  of  offended  Deity:  if  when  he  gave  his  taw, 
the  mountain  burned  with  fire,  and  darkness  and  thun- 
der, and  the  sound  of  a  trumpet,  announced  the  pres- 
ent God,  and  shook  the  camp  of  Israel:  if  when  he 
discovered  only  the  skirts  of  his  glory  to  Moses,  he 
sheltered  him  in  a  rock,  and  covered  him  with  his 
hand;  if  when  he  passed  before  Elijah,  a  great  and 
strong  wind  rent  the  mountains,  an  earthquake  rived 
the  rocks,  and  a  fire  consumed  the  forest;  if  when  in 
the  veil  of  flesh  his  face  eclipsed  the  splendor  of  the 
sun,  and  his  raiment  shone  as  the  light;  if  when  he  ap- 
peared to  his  beloved  disciple  in  the  barren  isle  of  Pat- 
mos,  in  the  softest  beams  of  his  majesty,  so  terrible 
was  the  sight,  that  he  fell  at  his  feet  as  dead:  Oh!  what 
must  be  the  power  of  his  anger!  and  "the  thunder  of 
his  power  who  can  understand?" 

We  have  heard  this  thunderstorm  in  the  summer: 
when  clouds  have  been  opposed  to  clouds,  and  min- 
gled their  sulphur  in  one  loud,  impetuous  explosion; 
while  the  mountains  and  the  valiies  have  returned 
their  roarings  in  broken  echoes.  But  what  is  the 
thunderstorm  of  summer,  to  the  ten  thousand  thun- 
ders which  shall  rend  the  earth,  when  the  trump  of 
God  shall  awaken  the  dead;  and  add  to  these  twice 
ten  thousand  more,  and  they  are  as  the  rattling  of  a 
leaf  to  "the  thunder  of  his  power!" 

Who  then  can  stand  against  him?  Pause  and  think, 
ye  monarchs  of  this  world,  who  resist  his  power!  Who 
would  have  him  for  an  enemy?  Pause  and  think,  ye 
who  madly  violate  his  laws!  Who  may  abide  the  day 
of  his  coming?  For  he  shall  sit  as  a  refiner  to  try 
every  work,  and  every  spirit  what  it  is! 

Hide;  your  diminished  heads,  ye  that  would  bring 
down  the  Infinite  Mind  to  your  finite  capacitieslBoast 


397 

no  more  more  your  conclusions  drawn  from  the  lim- 
ited views  which  you  have  of  his  operations.  Use 
your  reason  no  longer  as  a  weapon  against  him  who 
bestowed  it;  lest  a  dart,  launched  by  an  unseen  hand, 
strike  through  your  heart;  and  the  arrows  of  the 
Almighty  be  lodged  in  your  bosom,  the  poison  whereof 
shall  drink  up  your  spirit!  "Kiss  the  son,  lest  he  be 
angry,  and  ye  perish  from  the  way;  when  his  wrath  is 
kindled  but  a  little!" "BUT  THE  THUNDER  OF  HIS 

JOWER  WHO  CAN  UNDERSTAND?" 


NOTES. 

LECTURE  I. 

NOTK  1. — It  would  not  be  difficult  to  enlarge  the  catalogue 
of  idols,  enumerated  in  the  pages  of  the  preceding  Lec- 
ture, and  to  assign  the  different  causes  of  their  deification:  but 
to  unfold  their  character,  which  in  that  case  it  would  be  neces- 
sary to  do,  would  be  an  ungracious  task  to  the  writer,  and  would 
afford  no  pleasure  to  the  reader.  Our  immortal  poet  has  given 
an  ample  list  of  the  objects  of  heathen  adoration,  under  their 
scriptural  names;  which  will  be  more  familiar  to  the  Bible 
reader;  and  while  he  has  veiled  their  actions  in  modest  Ian- 
guage,  he  has  adorned  the  sad  catalogue,  so  far  as  it  is  possible 
to  ornament  a  barren  list,  with  the  nervous  eloquence  of  his 
majestic  versification.  An  abbreviation  of  his  recital  is  ex- 
tracted. 

"Say,  Muse,   their  names  then  known,  who  first,  who  last 
Rous'd  from  the  slumber,  on  that  fiery  couch, 
At  their  great  emperor's  call,  as  next  in  worth 
Came  singly  where  he  stood  on  the  bare  strand, 
While  the  promiscuous  crowd  stood  yet  aloof." 

"First  MOLOCH,*  horrid  king,  besmear'd  with  blood 
Of  human  sacrifice,  and  parents'  tears; 
Though  for  the  noise  of  drums  and  timbrels  loud, 
Their  children's  cries  unheard,  that  pass'd  through  fire 
To  his  grim  idol.     Him  the  Ammonite 
Worshipp'd   in  Rabba  and  her  watery  plain, 
In  Argob  and  in  Basan,  to  the  stream 
Of  utmost  Arnon." 


"Next  CHEMOS,  th'  obscene  dread  of  Moab's  sons 
From  Aroar  to  Nabo,  and  the  wild 
Of  southmost  Abarim;  in  Hesebon 

It  is  not  easy  to  determine   to  which   of  the   heathen    deities  thrse 
Hebrew  names  apply.     Saturn,  probably,  for  his   rites    are   nearly   the 

;.Tiji  9 


400 

And  Horonaim,  Seon's  realm,  beyond 
The  flowery  dale  of  Sibma,  clad  with  vines, 
And  Eleale  to  th*  Asphaltic  pool. 
PEOR,  his  other  name,  when  he  entic'd 
Israel  in  Sittim." • • 

With  these  came  they  who  from  the  bordering  flood 
Of  old  Euphrates  to  the  brook  that  parts 
Egypt  from  Syrian  ground,  had  general  names 
Of  BAALIM  and  ASHTAROTH;  those  male, 
These  feminine.!" 


-"With  these  in  troop 


Came  Astoreth,  whom  the  Phenicians  call'd 
ASTARTE,*  queen  of  heaven,  with  crescent  horns; 
To  whose  bright  image  nightly,  by  the  moon, 
Sidonian  virgins  paid  their  vows  and  songs." 


came  next  behind, 


Whose  annual  wound  in  Lebanon  allur'd 
The  Syrian   damsels  to  lament  his  fate 
In  amorous  ditties  all  a  summer's  day." 


-"Next  came  one 


Who  mourn'd  in  earnest,  when  the  captive  ark 

Maim'd  his  brute  image 

DAGON|  his  name,  sea-monster,  upward  man 
And  downward    fish: — — 


•dreaded  through  the  coast 


Of  Palestine." 

Him  followed  HIMMON,   whose  delightful  scat 
"Was  fair  Damascus." — 


- 'After  these,  appcar'd 


A  crew,  who,  under  names  of  old  renown, 

OSIRIS,  Isis,  Onus,  and  their  train, 

With  monstrous  shapes  and  sorceries  abus'd 

Fanatic  Egypt  and  her  priests,  to  seek 

Their  wandering  gods,  disguis'd  in  brutish  forms 


'Called  also  Lvna,    Diana,  Hecate. 
t  Probably    Neptune. 


401 

Rather  than  human.     Nor  did  Israel  'scape 
Th'  infection,  when  their  borrowed  gold  compos'd 
The  calf  in  Oreb;  and  the  rebel  king 
Doubled  that  sin  in  Bethel  and  in  Dan." 

"The  rest  were  long  to  tell,  though  far  rcnown'd; 

Th'  Ionian  gods,  of  Javan's  issue  held 

Gods,  yet  confess'd  later  than  heav'n  and  earth, 

Their  boasted  parents:  TITAN,  heav'n's  first-born, 

With  his  enormous  brood,  and  birth-right,  seiz'd 

By  younger  SATURN;  he  from  mightier  JOVE, 

His  own  and  RHEA'S  son,  like  measure  found; 

So  Jove  usurping  reign'd:  these  first  in  Crete 

And   Ida  known,  thence  on  the  snowy  top 

Of  cold  Olympus  ruPd  the  middle  air, 

Their  highest  heaven;  or  on  the  Delphian*  cliff, 

Or  in  Dodona,  and  through  all  the  bounds 

Of  Doric  land;  or  who  with  SATURN  old^ 

Fled  over  Adria  to  the  Hesperian  fields, 

And  o'er  the  Celtic  roam'd  the  utmost  Isles." 

Milton's  Paradise  Lost,  Book  I.  1.376—521, 

NOTE  2. — -The  custom  of  the  Carthaginians  of  consuming 
children  in  honor  of  Saturn. 

Diodorus  Siculus  had  been  saying,  that  as  the  enemy  ap- 
proached the  city,  the  Carthaginians  imagined  that  they  had  of- 
fended Saturn  by  restraining  their  human  sacrifices:  he  adds, 
"therefore  that  they  might  correct  their  errors  without  delay, 
they  immolated  in  public  sacrifice  two  hundred  chosen  boys  of 
their  principal  nobility."  And  he  thus  describes  the  idol  Saturn: 
"For  there  was  with  them  a  brazen  statue  of  Saturn,  which  held 
its  extended  arms  so  inclined  towards  the  earth,  that  the  child 
when  placed  upon  it  rolled  off,  and  plunged  into  a  furnace  full 
of  fire."  Diod.  Sic.  Lib.  xx, 

Justin  speaks  of  the  same  cruel  superstition,  thus:  "They 
immolated  men  as  victims,  and  children,  whose  tender  years 
excited  the  pity  even  of  enemies,  they  placed  upon  their  altars, 
purchasing  peace  of  the  gods  by  the  blood  of  those  for  whose 
life  they  were  accustomed  principally  to  implore  the  gods." 

Just.  His.  Lib.  xviii.  cap,  6, 

•The  Oracle  of 

51 


402 

This  horrible  custom  is  mentioned  also  by  Herodotus,  Lib.vii. 
The  English    reader  may  consult  ROLLIN'S  Ancient  Hislory 
vol.  i,  p.  273. 

NOTE  3.— .These   are  the   melancholy  sentiments  which  Ho- 
mer puts  into  the  mouth  of  the  shade  of*  Achilles: 
"Talk  not  of  ruling  in  this  dol'rous  gloom, 
Nor  think  vain  words  (he  cry'd)  can  ease  my  doom. 
Rather  I  choose  laboriously  to  bear 
A  weight  of  woes,  and  breathe  the  vital  air, 
A  slave  to  some  poor  hind  that  toils  for  bread, 
Than  reign  the  sceptred  monarch  of  the  dead!" 

Pope's  Odyss.  Book  xi,  1.  595 — 600. 

NOTE  4. — Socrates  is  represented  by  Plato  as  thus  expres- 
sing his  expectations  of  a  legislator  qualified  to  reveal  the  mind 
of  Deity  to  the  human  race:  "that  it  is  necessary  to  wait  till 
such  a  personage  shall  appear  to  teach  them  how  they  ought  to 
conduct  themselves,  fcoth  towards  God,  and  towards  man.'*  He 
goes  on  to  exclaim  with  fervor — 4<()  when  shall  that  period 
arrive!  And  who  shall  be  that  teacher?  How  ardently  do  I  de- 
sire to  see  this  man,  who  he  is!  Alcibiad.  II.  de  Precat. 

In  reference  to  the  same  personage  he  says,  that  this  Legis- 
lator must  be  of  higher  than  human  extraction:  for  that  as 
beasts  are  governed  by  men,  must  man  be  guided  by  a  nature 
superior  to  his  own.  De  Leg.  lib.  4, 

LECTURE   II. 

NOTE  3. — Among  the  ancient  philosophers,  various  modifi- 
cations of  the  hypothesis  which  supposes  the  eternity  of  the 
world,  are  to  be  found. 

Ocellus  Lucanus,  who  lived  a  short  time  before  Plato,  was 
one  of  the  most  ancient  asserters  of  the  world's  eternity.  A 
short  treatise,  bearing  his  name,  yet  remains,  upon  this  subject: 
Ocell.  Lucan.  de  Univ.  p.  506.  inter  opusc.  mythol.  edit,  per  T. 
Gale,  1688.  The  arguments  which  he  produces  will  not  be 
idered  as  the  most  decisive  and  satisfactory  that  could  be 
wished:  for  he  asserts,  that  the  world  must  be  eternal,  because 
its  figure  and  motion  are  circular;  and  because  it  is  impossible 
for  any  thing  to  arise  out  of  nothing,  or  to  fall  again  into  noth- 
ing. 


403 

Aristotle  maintained,  that  not  only  the  world,  but  that  man- 
kind, and  all  species  of  animals,  have  existed  from  eternity, 
without  any  original  production;  and  that  the  earth,  with  all 
its  variations,  and  in  all  its  parts,  has  ever  been  what  it  now  is. 
The  later  Platonists  deduce  their  principal  arguments  in  fa- 
vor of  the  eternity  of  the  world,  from  the  eternity  of  God's  de- 
cree for  its  creation,  "and  the  indivisibility  of  the  real  duration 
of  God."  They  maintain  that  God  always  existed;  that  his 
decree  was  eternal;  and  that  there  could  not  be  a  time  in  which 
it  did  not  exist  in  the  Divine  mind.  Beit  so:  there  remains 
still  much  perplexity  in  their  reasoning;  and,  as  it  appears  to 
me,  much  sophism  in  their  deductions.  There  must  be  a  dif- 
ference between  ideal  (if  the  expression  be  lawful)  and  actual 
creation;  and  I  do  not  see  how  it  can  be  proved,  that  the  decree 
was  not  anterior  to  the  accomplishment  of  that  decree. 

Xenophanes  and  his  followers  supposed,  that  God  and  the 
world  were  one  and  the  same  thing;  and  of  course  held  its  eter- 
nity and  immutability.  This,  again,  has  been  denied  by  others: 
but  there  is  so  much  obscurity  in  the  statement  which  these 
philosophers  have  made  of  their  own  opinions,  that  if  they  did 
not  mean  this,  it  is  difficult  to  decide  what  hypothesis  they  did 
intend  to  convey. 

Of  one  cr  the  other  of  these  opinions  respecting  the  eternity 
of  the  world,  appear  to  have  been  Strato,  of  Lampsacus,  and 
Alexander  the  Epicurean,  the  contemporary  of  Plutarch. 

Others  supposed  the  matter  of  the  world  to  be  eternal,  but 
not  the/orm  of  it.  These,' in  fact,  held  the  eternity  of  the  chaos, 
to  which  they  attributed  a  certain  motion  arising  from  the  ac- 
tion and  reaction  of  the  first  four  qualities,  producing  the  earth 
by  mere  fortuitous  fluctuations;  and  thus,  this  hypothesis 
resolves  itself  into  the  preceding  one,  viz.  that  the  world  itself 
was  produced  by  chance. 

The  reader  who  may  wish  to  see  a  larger  and  more"  laborious 
statement  of  these  several  hypotheses,  and  others,  not  brought 
forward  in  this  note,  will  find  a  full  and  satisfactory  discussion 
of  them  in  Anc.  Univ.  Hist.  vol.  i,  p.  77 — 91;  title,  The  Cos- 
mogony. But  in  some  later  8vo.  editions,  these  statements 
are  transferred  to  vol.  xviii,  Appendix,  p.  114 — 126. 


li  U  ft  1.  V 


404 

NOTE  4.    Extracted  from  Ovid. 

TRANSLATION    BY    DKYDEX. 

"Before  the  seas,  and  this  terrestrial  ball, 

And  heav'n's  high  canopy,  that  covers  all, 

One  was  the  face  of  nature;    if  a  face, 

Rather  a  rude  and  indigested  mass: 

A  lifeless  lump,  unfashion'd,  and  unfram'd, 

Of  jarring  seeds;   and  justly  Chaos  nam'd. 

No  sun  was  lighted  up,  the  world  to  view, 

No  moon  did  yet  her  blunted  horns  renew; 

Nor  yet  was  earth  suspended  in  the  sky; 

Nor  pois'd,  did  on  her  own  foundations  lie: 

Nor  seas  about  the  shores  their  arms  had  thrown; 

But  earth,  and  air,  and  water  were  in  one. 

Thus,  air  was  void  of  light,  and  earth  unstable, 

And  waters  dark  abyss  unnavigable. 

No  certain  form  on  any  was  imprest; 

All  were  confus'd,  and  each  disturb'd  the  rest. 

For  hot  and  cold,  were  in  one  body  fixt; 

And  soft  with  hard,  and  light  with  heavy  mixt. 

"But  God,  or  Nature,  while  they  thus  contend, 
To  these  intestine  discords  puts  an  end; 
Then  earth  from  air,  and  seas  from  earth  were  driven. 
And  grosser  air  sunk  from  ethereal  heaven. 
Thus,  disernbroiPd,  they  take  their  proper  place; 
The  next  of  kin,  contiguously   embrace; 
And  foes  are  sunder'd,  by  a  larger  space. 
The  force  of  fire  ascended  first  on  high, 
And  took  its  dwelling  in  the  vaulted  sky: 
Then  air  succeeds,  in  lightness  next  to   fire; 
Whose  atoms  from  unactivc  earth  retire. 
riartli  sinks  beneath,  and  draws  a  num'rous  throng 
Of  pond'rous,  thick,  unwieldy  seeds   along. 
About  her  coasts,  unruly  waters  roar; 
And,  rising  on  a  ridj^c,  insult  the  shore. 

"Thus  when  the  Go'I,  whatever  God  was  he, 
Had  forrn'd  the  whole,  and  made  the  parts  agree, 
That  no  unequal  portions  might  be  found, 
He  moulded  earth  into  a  spacious  round: 


405 

Then  with  a  breath  he  gave  the  winds  to  blow: 
And  bade  the  congregated  waters  flow. 
He  adds  the  running  springs,  and  standing  lakes; 
And  bounding  banks  for  winding  rivers  makes. 
Some  part  in  earth  are  swallow'd  up,  the  most 
In  ample  oceans  disembogu'd,  are  lost. 
He  shades  the  woods,  the  vallies  he  restrains 
With  rocky  mountains,  and  emends  the  plain*. 
"And  as  five  zones  th*  etherial  regions  bind, 
Five  correspondent,  are  to  earth  assign  *d: 
The  sun  with  rays,  directly  darting  down, 
Fires  all  beneath,  and  fries  the  middle  zone: 
The  two  beneath  the  distant  poles,  complain 
Of  endless  winter,  and  perpetual  rain. 
Betwixt  th'  extremes,  two  happier  climates  hold 
The  temper  that  partakes  of  hot,  and  cold. 
The  fields  of  liquid  air,  inclosing  all, 
Surround  the  compass  of  this  earthly  ball: 
The  lighter  parts  lie  next  the  fires  above; 
The  grosser  near  the  wat'ry  surface  move: 
Thick  clouds  are  spread,  and  storms  engender  there, 
And  thunder's  voice,  which  wretched  mortals  fear, 
And  winds  that  on  their  wings  cold  winter  bear. 
Nor  were  these  blust'ring  brethren  left  at  large, 
On  seas,  and  shores,  their  fury  to  discharge: 
Bound  as  they  are,  and  circumscrib'd  in  place, 
They  rend  the  world,  resistless  as  they  pass; 
And  mighty  marks  of  mischief  leave  behind; 
Such  is  the  rage  of  their  tempestuous  kind. 
"First,  Eurus  to  the  rising  morn  is  sent, 
(The  regions  of  the  balmy  continent;) 
And  eastern  realms,  where  early  Persians  run, 
To  greet  the  blest  appearance  of  the  sun. 
Westward  the  wanton  Zephyr  wings  his  flight; 
Pleas'd  with  the  remnants  of  departing  light. 
Fierce  Boreas,  with  his  offspring,  issues  forth 
T'  invade  the  frozen  waggon  of  the  north; 
While  frowning  Auster  seeks  the  southern  sphere, 
And  rots,  with  endless  rain,  th'  unwholesome  year. 


406 

"High  o'er  the  clouds,  and  empty  realms  of  wind, 
The  God  a  clearer  space  for  heaven  design'd; 
Where  fields  of  light  and  liquid  aether  flow, 
Purg'd  from  the  pond'rous  dregs  of  earth  below. 

"Scarce  had  the  Power  distinguish'd  these,  when  straight, 
The  stars,  no  longer  overlaid  with  weight, 
Exert  their  heads,  from  underneath  the  mass; 
And  upward  shoot,  and  kindle  as  they  pass, 
And  with  diffusive  light  adorn  their  heavenly  place, 
Then,  every  void  of  nature  to  supply, 
With  forms  of  gods  he  fills  the  vacant  sky: 
New  herds  of  beasts,  he  sends  the  plains  to  share: 
New  colonies  of  birds  to  people  air: 
And  to  their  oozy  beds,  the  finny  fish  repair. 

"A  creature  of  a  more  exalted  kind 
Was  wanting  yet,  and  then  was  man  design'd: 
Conscious  of  thought,  of  more  capacious  breast, 
For  empire  form'd,  and  fit  to  rule  the  rest: 
Whether  with  particles  of  heavenly  fire 
The  God  of  nature  did  his  soul  inspire, 
Or  earth,  but  new  divided  from  the  sky, 
And  pliant,  still  retain'd  th'  etherial  energy: 
Which  wise  Fromotheus*  temper'd  into  paste, 
And  mix'd  with  living  streams  the  godlike  image  cast. 
Thus,  while  the  mute  creation  downward  bend 
Their  sight,  and  to  their  earthly  mother  tend, 
Man  looks  aloft;  and  with  erected  eyes 
Beholds  his  own  hereditary  skies. 
From  such  rude  principles  our  form  began; 
And  earth  was  metamorphos'd  into  man." 

Garth's  Ovid,  vol.  i,  p.  5 — 9. 

NOTE  5 Testimony  to  the  majesty  of  the  scriptures  from 

Longinus  in  his  treatise  on  the  sublime.  He  had  been  saying 
that,  "those  who  speak  of  God,  ought  to  be  careful  to  represent 
him  as  great,  and  pure,  and  without  alloy:"  He  adds,  "Thus 

•  "Japctus"— or  Japhet. 


407 

the  legislator  of  the  Jews,  a  man  of  no  common  genius,  con- 
ceived and"  spake  justly  of  the  power  of  Deity,  when  in  the  very 
beginning  of  his  laws,  he  writes- — "God  said,"  (said  he)  What? 
"Be  light,  and  it  was:  Be  earth,  and  it  was  so." 

Dion.  Long,  de  Sublim.     Sec.  ix,  p.  50,  Pearce's  Edit. 
Longinus  lived  in  the  time  of  Aurelian  the  emperor,  and  was 
a  favorite  of  Zenobia,  queen  of  the  Palmy rians.      His   treatise 
"on  the  sublime,"  from  which  the  above  extract  is  taken,  is,  in 
itself,  a  master-piece  of  eloquence. 


LECTURE  III. 

NOTE  I. — For  the  enumeration  of  ancient  testimonies,  to  hu- 
man longevity,  by  Josephus. 

See  Josefih  Antiq.  Jud.  lib.  I,  cap.  3,  vol.  i,  Hudson's  edit. 

I  cannot  find  any  passage  in  Hesiod  directly  specifying  the 
years  of  the  first  men:  but  he  gives  a  beautiful  description  of 
the  golden  age,  and  its  influence  in  the  prolongation  of  human 
life  in  Dleb.  et  Ofier.  v.  130,  et  seq.  Hudson  supposes,  in  his 
note  upon  this  passage  in  Josephus,  that  Ho-/c<fo?  might  be  written 
for  J0*fc»goc:  "Intelligendo  Isidorum  Characcnum;  qui  (ut  con- 
stat  ex  Luciano  de  Macrobiis)  in  Historia  sua  attulit  exempla 
regum  longaevorum."  He  says,  however,  that  it  is  uniformly 
written  H<™JW  in  all  the  Greek  manuscripts:  but  in  the  Latin, 
variously,  Isiodus,  Esiodus,  isiodorus,  and  Isidorus. 

NOTE  2. — Testimony  of  Catullus  to  the  infamy  of  the  old 
world. 

"But  when  the  earth  became  stained  with  nameless  wicked- 
ness, and  divers  lusts  banished  integrity  from  the  mind;  then,  a 
brother's  hand  shed  fraternal  blood-— the  son  ceased  to  deplore 
his  deceased  parents — the  father  desired  the  funeral  of  his  first 
born — the  son  to  enjoy  his  unmarried  step-mother — the  impious 
mother  yielding  to  her  thoughtless  offspring,  feared  not  to  pol- 
lute the  temple  of  the  Gods:  ail  thing-s,  just  and  unjust,  were 
thus  blended  together  by  furious  passion;  and  the  propitious 
mind  of  the  Gods  turned  away  from  us."  Qatul.  Ejiith.  Pel.  et 
Tfyef.  Can  there  be  a  more  striking  confirmation  of  the  apos- 


408 

tie's  assertion,  respecting  the  heathen  world,  that  "they  were 
given  over  to  a  reprobate  mind?"  or  a  better  comment  upon  the 
declaration  of  Moses,  that  "the  earth  was  filled  with  violence?" 

NOTE  6. — Extract,  from  Dr.  Geddes,  respecting  the  quantity 
of  water  required  for  an  universal  deluge;  and  the  sources 
whence  it  might  be  supposed  to  be  derived. 

"Fifteen  cubits  u^iiuard  did  the  waters  firevail;  and  the  mown- 
tains  lotre  covered.  This  has  been  always  accounted  one  of  the 
most  unaccountable  phenomena  of  the  deluge,  and  has,  more 
than  any  other  circumstance  attending  it,  perplexed  and  puzzled, 
commentators.  The  most  ingenious  solution  of  the  difficulty 
which  I  have  ever  met  with,  is  one  sent  to  me,  some  years  ago, 
by  Sir  Henry  Englefield,  which  I  shall  here  give  in  his  own 
words: 

'The  diameter  of  the  earth  being  taken  at  8000  miles;  and 
the  highest  mountain  being  supposed  four  miles  high  above  the 
level  of  the  sea,*  the  quantity  of  water  requisite  to  cover  them 
will  be  an  hollow  sphere  of  8008  miles  diameter,  and  four 'miles 
thick;  the  content  of  which,  in  round  numbers,  is  800,000,000 
cubic  miles. — Let  us  now  suppose  the  globe  of  the  earth  to 
consist  of  a  crust  of  solid  matter,  1000  miles  thick,  enclosing  a 
sea,  or  body  of  water,  2000  miles  deep;  within  which  is  a  cen- 
tral nucleus  of  2000  miles  in  diameter:  the  content  of  that  body 
of  water  will  be  109,200,000,000  cubic  miles;  or  about  137  times 
the  quantity  of  water  required  to  cover  the  surface  of  the  earth 
as  above  stated.  Now  water,  by  experiment,  expands  about  one 
25th  of  its  whole  magnitude,  from  freezing  to  boiling,  or  one 
hundredth  of  its  magnitude  for  45  degrees  of  Fahrenhcit*s  ther- 
mometer. Suppose,  then,  that  the  heat  of  the  globe,  previously 
to  the  deluge,  was  about  50  degrees  of  Fahrenheit's,  a  temper- 
ature very  near  that  of  this  climate;  and  that  a  sudden  change 
took  place  in  the  interior  of  the  globe,  which  raised  its  height 
to  83  degrees;  an  heat  no  greater  than  the  marine  animals  live 
in,  in  the  shallow  seas  between  the  tropics;  those  23  degrees  of 
augmented  heat  would  so  expand  the  internal  sea,  as  to  cause  it 
ore  than  cover  the  surface  of  the  globe,  according  to  the 

•  "Thi*  is  more  than  the  height  of  the  Andes." 


409  , 

conditions  above   mentioned:    and  if  the  cause  of  heat  ceased, 
the  waters  would  of  course,  in  cooling,  retire  into  their  proper 
places — If  the  central  nucleus  be  supposed  SOOO  miles,  and  the 
internal   sea   only    1500    miles  deep,  its  contents  will  then  be 
99.200,000,000  cubic  miles;    or,  125  times  the  water  required, 
and  in  that  case,  an  additional  heat  of  36  degrees  to  the  previ- 
ous temperature  of  the   earth,  will  be  sufficient  to  produce  the 
above  described  effect. — It  is  scarce  necessary  to  say,  that  the 
perfect  regularity  here  supposed  to  exist  in  the  form  of  the  in 
.  terior  parts  of  the  globe,  is  of  no  consequence  to  the  proposed 
hypothesis;  which  will  be  equally  just,  if  the  above  given  quan- 
tity of  waters  be  any  how  disposed  within  the  earth. — Neither 
is  it  here  proposed  to  discuss  the  reality  of  a  central  fire,  which 
many    philosophers  maintain,  and  many  deny.       It  may  not  be 
unworthy  to  remark,  that  the  above  hypothesis,  which  does  not 
in  any  way  contradict  any  law  of  nature,  does  singularly  accord 
with  the  Mosaic  narrative  of  the  deluge:  for  the  sudden  expan- 
sion of  the    internal  waters  would,   of  course,  force  them  up 
through  the  chasms  of  the  exterior  crust,  in  dreadful  jets  and 
torrents;    while  their  heat  would  cause  such  vapors  to  ascend 
into  the  atmosphere,  as,  when  condensed;  would  produce  tor- 
rents of  rain  beyond  our  conception.' 

"The  possibility  of  an  universal  deluge,  then;  of  a  deluge 
rising  fifteen  cubits  above  the  highest  mountains^  can  hardly  be 
denied.  It  is  not  at  all  necessary  to  suppose,  with  Sir  Henry, 
that  the  antediluvian  mountains  were  as  high  as  those  of  the 
present  earth.  They  may  have  been  of  a  very  different  form 
and  size,  and  composed  of  other  materials." 

Dr.  GeddeS)  vol.  z,  Crit.  Rsm.  on  Gen.  1^2,30,  l?c. 

After  all,  this  great  critic,  as  usual,  labors,  to  lower  the  Mo- 
saic account;  and  thinks  "that  a  great  deal  of  the  fabulous  is 
mixed  with  the  history  of  Noah's  flood."  The  humble  opinion 
of  the  writer  of  these  Lectures,  differs  widely  from  him.  in 
this  respect;  and  he  is  satisfied  with  taking  this  ingenious  hy- 
pothesis, which  even  Dr.  Geddes  admits,  proves  such  a  deluga 
possible^  without  accepting  his  concluding  observations. 

NOTE    7 Experiment  by  the   Bishop   of  Landaf*",  on  tbft 

quantity  of  water  exhaled  from  the  earth  on  a  summei'^  day. 
52 


410 

'•*Who  would  have  conjectured,  that  an  acre  of  ground,  even 
after  having  been  parched  by  the  heat  of  the  sun  in  summer* 
dispersed  into  the  air,  above  1600  gallons  of  water,  in  the  space 
of  twelve  of  the  hottest  hours  of  the  day?  No  vapor  is  seen  to 
ascend;  and  we  little  suppose,  that  in  the  hottest  part  of  the  day, 
it  more  usually  does  ascend  than  in  any  other.  The  experiment 
from  which  I  draw  this  conclusion,  is  so  easy  to  be  made,  that 
every  one  may  satisfy  himself  thtj  truth  of  it.  On  the  2d  day  of 
June,  1779,  when  the  &un  shone  bright  and  hot,  I  put  a  large 
drinking  glass,  with  its  mouth  downwards,  upon  a  grass-plat 
which  was  mown  close;  there  had  been  no  rain  for  above  a 
month,  and  the  grass  was  become  brown:  in  less  than  two  min- 
utes, the  inside  of  the  glass  was  clouded  with  a  vapor,  and  in 
half  an  hour,  drops  of  water  began  to  trickle  down  its  inside,  in 
various  places.  This  experiment  was  repeated  several  times 
with  the  same  success. 

"That  I  might  accurately  estimate  the  quantity,  thus  raiser1,  in 
H  certain  portion  of  time,  I  measured  the  area  of  the  mouth  of 
the  glass,  and  found  it  to  be  twenty  square  inches:  there  are 
1296  square  inches  in  a  yard,  and  4840  square  yards  in  a  statute 
acre;  hence,  if  we  can  find  the  means  of  measuring  the  quantity 
of  vapor  raised  from  twenty  square  inches  of  earth,  suppose  in 
one  quarter  of  an  hour,  it  will  be  an  easy  matter  to  calculate  the. 
quantity  which  would  be  raised,  with  the  same-degree  of  heat, 
from  an  acre  in  twelve  hours.  The  method  I  took  to  measure 
the  quantity  of  vapor,  was  not,  perhaps,  the  most  accurate 
which  might  be  thought  of,  but  it  was  simple  and  easy  to  be 
practised:  when  the  glass  had  stood  on  the  grass-plat  one 
quarter  of  an  hour,  and  had  collected  a  quantity  of  vapor,  I  wip- 
ed its  inside  with  a  piece  of  muslin,  the  weight  of  which  had 
been  previously  taken;  as  soon  as  the  glass  was  wiped  dry,  the 
imislin  was  weighed  again,  its  increase  of  weight  shewed  the 
quantity  of  vapor  which  had  been  collected.  The  medium  in- 
crease of  weight,  from  several  experiments  made  on  the  same 
day,  between  twelve  and  three  o'clock,  was  six  grains,  collected 
in  cne  quarter  of  an  hour,  from  twenty  square  inches  of  earth. 
If  the  reader  takes  the  trouble  to  make  the  calculation,  he  will 
find,  that  above  1600  gallons  reckoning  eight  pints  to  a  gallon, 
and  estimating  the  weight  of  a  pint  of  water  at  one  pound 
avoirdupois,  or  7000  grains  Troy-weight,  would  be  raised  at  the 


411 

rate  here  mentioned,  from  an  acre  of  ground  in  twenty-four 
hours. 

"It  may  easily  be  conceived,  that  the  quantity  thus  elevated, 
will  be  greater  when  the  ground  has  been  well  soaked  with 
rain,  provided  the  heat  be  the  same.  I  did  not  happen  to  mark 
the  heat  of  the  ground,  when  I  made  the  fore-mentioned  ex- 
periments. The  two  following,  are  more  circumstantial:  tire 
ground  had  been  wetted,  the  day  before  I  made  them,  by  a 
thunder-shower;  the  heat  of  the  earth,  at  the  time  of  making 
them,  estimated  by  a  thermometer  laid  upon  the  grass,  wat> 
ninety-six  degrees;  one  experiment  gave  1973  gallons  from  an 
acre  in  twelve  hours;  the  other  gave  1905.  Another  experi- 
ment made  when  there  had  been  no  rain  for  a  week,  and  the 
heat  of  the  earth  was  one  hundred  and  ten  degrees,  gave  after  the 
rate  of  2800  gallons  from  an  acre  in  twelve  hours.  The  earth 
was  hotter,  than  the  air,  as  it  was  exposed  to  the  reflection  of 
the  sun's  rays  from  a  brick  wall." 

Watson's  Chemical  Essays,  vol.  3, /2.  52 — 56. 


LECTURE  IV. 

NOTE  2. — The  giant's  war  described  by  different  ancient  poets, 

See  Horn.  Odys.  xi. 

Proud  of  their  strength,  and  more  than  mortal  size, 
The  gods  they  challenge,  and  affect  the  skies* 
Heav'd  on  Olympus,  tott'ring  Ossa  stood, 
On  Ossa,  Pelion  nods  with  all  his  wood. 

Pope's  Horn.  Odys.  b.  xi,  I.  385 — 388. 

Also  Virg.  Georg.lib.  i,  v.  279—283. 

.    ••    >And  cruel  Tyf-ihoeus,  and  the  brethren,  leagued  to 

scale  heaven.  Thrice,  indeed,  they  attempted  to  fiile  'Ossa  upon 
Pelion,*  and  to  roll  woody  Olymfius^  upon  Ossa;  thrice  the  Fath- 
er of  heaven  overthrew  the  mountains,  thus  heafied  up,  "with 
thunder. 

Also  Ovid  Met.  fab.  -vi,  lib.  iv,  151 — 155. 


•  Two  high  mountains  in  Thessaly. 

j"  An  hill  between  Thessaly  and   Macedon,  so  high,  that  the  heathen 
poets  usually  apply  its  name  to  heaven. 


412 

Nor  were  the  gods  themselves  more  safe  above, 

Against  beleaguer'd  heav'n  the  giants  move: 

Hills  pil'd  on  hills,  on  mountains,  mountains  lie, 

To  make  their  mad  afifiroaches  to  the  sky. 

Till  Jove,  no  longer  patient,  took  his  time 

T'avenge,  with  thunder,  their  audacious  crime; 

Red  light'ning  play'd  along  the  firmament, 

And  their  clemolish'd  works  to  pieces  rent.  DRYDEN. 

Garth's  Ovid,  b.  z,  /.  193,  tfc. 

NOTE  3.  See  page  123,  Joseph,  quotation  from  one  of  the 
Sybils. 

NOTE  4. — Testimony  of  Abydenus,  preserved  by  Eusebius; 

Ex  ABYDENO.  Euseb.  Pr&fi.  ix^  c.  14. 
Translated  in  page  124. 

NOTE  5. — Remark  of  Grotius  respecting  the  building  of  Bab- 
ylon: "Falso  autem  a  Grsesis  proditum,  conditam  a  Semiramidc 
Babylonem,  etiam  Berosus  in  Chaldaicis  prodidit,  ut  nos  Jose- 
phus  docet  contra  Appionem,  primo:  eundemque  errorem  tuni 
ex  Philone  Biblio,  turn  ex  Dorotheo  Sidonio  refellit  Julius  Fir- 
micus.  Vide  et  quae  de  gigantibus  a  turri  ex  Eupolemo  nobis 
adducit  Eusebius  Praeparat.  Evangelicse  lib.  xx,  cap.  17." 

Grot,  de  Helig.  Christ.  §  xvi,  in  not.  63. 


LECTURE  V. 

NOTE  1  ..—Testimony  to  the  fact  that  the  Chaldeans  worship- 
ped fire,  extracted  from  the  works  of  the  pious  and  eloquent 
Saurin. 

Saur.  Dies,  sur  la  Bible,  Tome  I,  disc.  xi.  fi.  78. 

"There  is  a  remarkable  passage  in  Rnfin  respecting  the  idol- 
atry of  the  Chaldeans:  the  testimony  of  this  author  is  confirmed 
by  that  of  Suidas: 

"They  say  that  the  Chaldeans  formerly  carried  fire,  which 
was  their  God,  through  all  the  provinces,  to  contend  with  alj 
the  other  divinities,  that  whoever  conquered  in  this  comlxit 
might  be  deemed  the  true  one.  The  deities  of  air,  of  gold,  of 


413 

silver,  of  wood,  and  of  stone,  were  easily  consumed  by  the  fire, 
which  had  the  superiority  over  all.  A  priest  of  Canopus  be- 
thought himself  of  this  stratagem.  The  Egyptians  had  certain 
vases  of  earth,  which  had  little  apertures  on  all  sides,  and  which 
were  designed  to  filtrate  the  water  of  the  Nile.  He  filled  one 
of  these  vases  with  water:  he  closed  all  the  holes  of  it  with 
wax:  he  placed  a  head  upon  it,  which  was  said  to  be  that  of 
Menelaus,  and  he  exalted  it  to  a  divinity.  The  Chaldeans 
kindled  the  fire  round  this  vase,  that  these  two  deities  might 
contend  together.  But  the  fire  having  quickly  melted  the  wax 
which  covered  the  aperture  of  the  pitcher,  it  was  presently  ex- 
tinguished by  the  water  which  issued  from  it,  and  the  priest  of 
Canopus  obtained  the  victory." 
"These  are  the  words  of  Rufin." 

NOTE  2 — There  is  a  singular  coincidence  between  the  lan- 
guage used  by  the  Deity,  in  his  conference  with  Abraham,  and 
the  words  which  Ovid  puts  into  the  mouth  of  his  Jupiter.  In 
the  one  case,  it  is  to  be  considered  altogether  as  a  figure  of 
speech,  for  the  Deity  could  obtain  no  additional  information,  by- 
descending  in  a  human  form:  in  the  latter  instance,  the  poet 
speaks  in  exact  conformity  to  the  ideas  which  the  heathens  en- 
tertained of  the  limited  knowledge  of  their  divinities.  We 
•will  lay  the  passages  together. 

MOSES. 

"And  the  LORD  said,  Because  the  cry  of  Sodom  and  Gomor- 
rah  is  great,  and  because  their  sin  is  -very  gre-uious:  I  will  go 
down  now,  and  see  whether  they  have  done  altogether  according 
to  the  cry  of  it,  which  is  cyme  unto  me;  and  if  not,  I  will  know." 

Gen.  x-uiii)  20,  21. 

rtThc  INFAMY  of  the  times  had  REACHED  OUR  EARS:  WISHING 
it  might  be  FALSE,  I  DESCENDED  from  high  OLYMPUS,  and,  a 
god,  I  passed  through  the  earth  UNDER  A  HUMAN  FORM." 

NOTE  3 — The  several  testimonies  collected  from  different 
ancient  writers,  respecting  the  lake  Asphaltites  and  its  yicinity, 
with  the  traditions  of  its  destruction  by  fire  are  translated  in 
page  155. 

Ovid  Mef.  lib.  i,  21 1—213.- 


414  g 

Many  travellers  bear  a  testimony  to  the  unhealthiness  of  the 
air  about  the  lake:  the  monks  who  live  in  the  neighborhood, 
•would  have  dissuaded  Dr.  Pococke  from  bathing  in  these  sin- 
gular waters:  he  ventured  in,  however,  and  was,  two  days  after, 
seized  with  a  dizziness,  and  violent  pain  in  the  stomach,  which 
lasted  nearly  three  weeks,  and  which  they  imputed  to  his  rash- 
ness; nor  does  he  contradict  them. 

NOTE  4.  —  The  day  of  judgment  is  a  doctrine  of  Christianity; 
yet  is  it  worthy  remark,  that  the  heathens  cherished  some  vague 
opinions,  and  held  some  uncertain  traditions,  that  the  earth,  and 
the  orbs  around  us,  are  to  be  consumed  by  fire,  as  the  following 
extracts  will  prove. 

When  fate  commands  the  final  hour, 
And  conquering  Time's  resistless  power 

Dissolves  creation's  frame; 
Stars  mix'd  with  stars  shall  vainly  try, 
In  ocean's  boundless  waves,  to  fly 
The  universal  flame. 


The  land  no  more  shall  guard  the 
The  moon  shall  strive  to  rule  the  day, 

The  shatter'd  sphere  shall  burn: 
The  whole  machine  to  ruin  hurl'd, 
Discord  shall  triumph  o'er  the  world, 
And  chaos  shall  return. 

Lucan.  Phras.  lib.  i.  v.  72  —  80, 

Stars  shall  rush  upon  stars,  every  thing  material  shall  be 
consumed;  and  whatever  now  shines  in  order,  shall  perish  in 

one  common  fire! 

Seneca,  Jin*  ad  Marciam. 

Ovid  represents  his  Jupiter,  when  resolved  to  punish  the 
earth,  choosing  water,  and  checking  his  thunder,  for  the  follow* 
Ing  reason: 

He  stopt,  for  fear,  thus  violently  dilv'n, 
The  sparks  should  catch  his  axle-tree  of  hcav'n. 
Remembering  in  the  fates,  a  time  when  fire 
Should  to  the  battlements  of  hcav'n  aspire, 
And  all  his  blazing  worlds  above  should  burn, 
And  all  th'  inferior  globe  to  cinders  turn. 

DKYDEN  —  Garth's  Ovid.  b.  i.  1.  346  —  350. 


415 
i 

LECTURE   VI. 

NOTE  1. — Seepage  181,  and   182. 

>JOTF  2 — It  is  impqssible  to  read  the  account  given  by 
Moses  of  the  meeting  of  Jacob  and  Joseph,  without  calling  to 
mind  the  masterly  description  furnished  by  Homer," in  his  Odys- 
sey, of  the  discovery  of  Ulysses  to  Tclemachus;  and  a  very 
slight  parallel  will  shew  the  superiority  of  the  sacred  historian 
ever  the  genius  of  even  Homer. 

Odys.  lib.  xvitl.  188,  189:  213,  214,  215. 

"I  am  thy  father.     O  my  son!  my  son! 
That  father,  for  whose  sake  thy  days  have  run 
One  scene  of  woe;  to  endless  cares  consign'd, 
And  outraged  by  the  wrongs  of  base  mankind.*' 


"He  spoke  and  sat.     The  prince  with  transport  flew> 
Hung  round  his  neck  while  tears  his  cheek  bedew; 
Nor  less  the  father  pour'd  a  social  flood! 
They  wept  abundant,  and  they  wept  aloud. 
Pojie's  Homer's  Odyss.  d.xvi9l.206 — 209:234 — 237. 

"And  he  wept  aloud — And  Joseph  said  unto  his  brethren,  I 
am  Joseph.  Doth  my  father  yet  live?  And  his  brethren  could 
not  answer  him;  for  they  were  troubled  at  his  r  esence.  And 
Joseph  said  unto  his  brethren,  Come  near  to  me,  I  pray  you; 
and  they  came  near:  and  he  said,  I  am  Joseph,  your  brother 

whom  ye  sold  into  Egypt." "And  he  fell  upon  his  brother 

Benjamin's  neck  and  wept;  and  Benjamin  wept  upon  his  neck." 
"And  Joseph  made  ready  his  chariot,  and  went  up  to 
meet  Israel  his  father  to  Goshen;  and  presented  himself  unto 
him:  and  he  fell  on  his  neck,  and  wept  on.  his  neck  a  good 
while.  And  Israel  said  unto  Joseph,  Now  let  me  die,  since  I 
have  seen  thy  face,  because  thou  art  yet  alive." 

Mr.  Pope,  in  his  notes  on  this  beautiful  passage  in  Homer,  says 
—"This  book  (i.  e.  xvi)  in  general  is  very  beautiful  in  the  origi- 
nal; the  discovery  of  Ulysses  to  Telemachusis  particularly  ten- 
der and  affecting.  It  has  some  resemblance  with  that  of  Joseph's 
discovery  of  himself  to  his  brethren,  and  it  may  not  perhaps  be 
disagreeable  to  see  how  two  such  authors  describe  the  same- 
pasafen." 


416 

MOSES,  HOME*. 

I  am  Joseph—  "I  am  Ulysses— 

I  am  your  brother  Joseph —  I,  my  son,  am  he — 

And  he  wept  aloud —  He  wept  abundant — 

And  he  fell  on  his  brother's  And  he  wept  aloudl" 

neck,  and  wept 

"But  it  must  be  owned  that  Homer  falls  infinitely  short  of 
Moses:  the  history  of  Joseph  cannot  be  read  without  the  ut- 
most touches  of  compassion  and  transport.  There  is  a  majestic 
simplicity  in  the  whole  relation,  and  such  an  affecting  portrait 
of  human  nature,  that  it  overwhelms  us  with  vicissitudes  of  joy 
and  sorrow.  This  is  a  pregnant  instance  how  much  the  best 
of  heathen  writers  is  inferior  to  the  divine  historian  upon  a  par- 
allel subject." 

In  these  just  sentiments  I  most  heartily  concur.  And  it 
would  most  amply  repay  any  reader  capable  of  understanding 
the  original,  to  compare  the  whole  of  Homer's  narration  in 
Odyss.  lib.  xvi,  from  line  172  to  line  232,  with  that  of  Moses  in 
Gen.  xlv,  throughout,  and  xlvi,  28 — 30.  It  will  be  soon  seen 
to  whom  we  must  yield  the  palm  of  excellence. 

LECTURE  VIII. 

NOTE  1. — The  discussion  respecting  the  nature  of  the  mir- 
acles performed  by  the  magicians,  which  was  delivered  in 
the  Lecture,  because  it  would  have  prolonged  the  exercise 
beyond  all  reasonable  bounds,  because  the  opposite  opinions 
of  different  writers  might  have  bewildered  the  attention  of 
hearers,  and  because  it  would  have  digressed  too  far  from 
(he  object,  and  would  have  broken  the  chain  of  the  narra- 
tive, may  perhaps  not  be  deemed  uninteresting  as  an  ap- 
pendix, and  may  be  allowed  the  place  of  a  note. 

The  sentiments  of  the  writers  of  the  ENCYCLOPAEDIA  BRIT- 
TANNICA  are  thus  expressed: 

"The  first  magicians  of  whom  we  read  are  those  who  in 
Et;ypt  opposed  Moses.  And  we  are  told,  that  when  Aaron 
cast  clown  his  rod,  and  it  became  a  serpent,  they  also  did  the 
like  with  their  enchantments;  4for  they  cast  down  every  man  his 
rod,  and  they  became  serpents.'  This  was  a  phenomenon 
which;  it  must  be  confessed,  had  a  yery  miraculous  appear- 


417 

ance;  and  yet  there  seems  to  have  been  nothing  in  it  which 
might  not  have  been  effected  by  slight  of  hand.  The  Egyp- 
tians, and  perhaps  the  inhabitants  of  every  country  where  ser- 
pents abound,  have  the  art  of  depriving  them  of  the  power  to 
do  mischief,  so  that  they  may  be  handled  without  danger.  It 
was  easy  for  the  magicians,  who  were  favored  by  the  court,  to 
pretend  that  they  changed  their  rods  into  serpents,  by  dexter- 
ously substituting  one  of  those  animals  in  place  of  the  rod.  In 
like  manner  they  might  pretend  to  change  water  into  blood, 
and  to  produce  frogs;  for  if  Moses  gave  in  these  instances,  as 
as  we  know  he  did  in  others,  any  previous  information  of  the 
nature  of  the  miracles  which  were  to  be  wrought,  the  magi- 
cians might  easily  provide  themselves  in  a  quantity  of  blood 
and  number  of  frogs  sufficient  to  answer  their  purpose  of  de- 
ceiving the  people.  Beyond  this,  however,  their  power  could 
not  go.  It  stopped  where  that  of  all  workers  in  legerdemain 
must  have  stopt— -at  the  failure  of  proper  materials  to  work 
with.  Egypt  abounds  with  serpents;  blood  could  be  easily 
procured;  and  without  difficulty  they  might  have  frogs  from 
the  river:  but  when  Moses  produced  lice  from  the  dust  of  the 
ground,  the  magicians,  who  had  it  not  in  their  power  to  collect 
a  sufficient  quantity  of  these  animals,  were  compelled  to  own 
this  to  be  an  effect  of  divine  agency." 

Encyclofl.  Brit.  Vol.  x.  Pt.  II.  Art,  MAGIC. 
I  am  neither  convinced  by  this  reasoning,  nor  can  admit  into 
my  belief,  this  representation.  It  goes  upon  the  supposition 
that  Moses  announced  his  miracles  previous  to  the  perform- 
ance of  them,  which  it  is  admitted  he  did  in  some  instances,  but 
it  cannot  be  proved  that  he  did  it  in  all,  neither  does  it  appear 
from  the  sacred  history,  that  he  did  it  in  relation  especially  to 
the  first  miracle.  Whatever  were  their  skill  in  legerdemain, 
it  would  cost  them  some  trouble  to  conceal  the  quantity  of  ser- 
pents, frogs,  blood,  8cc.  necessary  to  rival  the  miracles  of  Moses; 
and  if  there  was  not  something  like  rivalry,  and  that  success- 
ful rivalry,  it  was  not  a  principle  on  which  Pharaoh  could  be 
encouraged;  and  the  circumstance  of  the  magicians  perform- 
ing correspondent  miracles  with  those  of  Moses,  appears  to  be 
Mar,  in  the  first  instance,  upon  which  his  heart  was  hardened. 
And  it  is  improbable  that  Moses  should  not  have  the  power  to 
detect  the  imposition,  and  to  expose  the  cheat,  which  would 

53 


418 

certainly  have  been  both  his  duty,  and  his   interest,  if  the  1'actJ. 
were  as  this  hypothesis  supposes. 

The.  learned  writers  of  the  Ancient  Universal  History,  state 
fairly  the  divided  sentiments  of  different  commentators  on  this 
difficult  subject,  but  appear  to  lean  to  the  opinion  that  these 
miracles  were  performed  by  the  agency  of  evil  spirits,  and  not 
by  legerdemain.  They  thus  express  their  sentiments  generally, 
on  the  possibility  of  the  operations  of  such  spirits.  "That  such 
a  commerce  is,  or  at  least  formerly  was,  possible,  we  cannot 
but  confess;  and  we  conceive  it  very  difficult  to  account  for  sev- 
eral passages  in  scripture,  without  allowing  it  to  have  been 
practised.  However,  much  the  greater  part  of  whatHias  been 
attributed  to  this  sort  of  magic,  was  undoubtedly  the  effect  of 
imposture  and  delusion,  which  have  been  so  apparent  in  sever- 
al instances,  as  to  tempt  one  almost  to  believe  the  same  of  all 
the  rest."  Anc.  Univ.  Hist.  Vol.  I.  b.  i.  chap.  3.  p.  587. 

Upon  the  miracles  in  question  their  ideas  are  expressed  in 
language  still  more  explicit.  They  state  the  two  following 
reasons  as  evidences  generally  produced  in  favor  of  the  opin- 
ion, that  these  miracles  were  wrought  by  the  agency  of  evil 
spirits:  "First,  because  the  scriptures  of  the  Old  and  New 
Testament  seem  to  attribute  some  such  power  to  evil  spirits; 
and  secondly,  because  Moses  expressed  himself  in  such  terms 
as  manifestly  shew,  that  they  really  imitated  him  in  all  those 
wonders  they  wrought."  They  go  on  to  criticise  the  express 
phrases  which  he  used  in  describing  the  miracles  of  the  magi- 
cians. He  says,  that  "they  ca*t  down  every  man  his  rod,  and 
they  BECAME  serjienttt."  They  assign  three  reasons  why  God 
suffered  them  thus  to  contend  against  the  wonders  wrought  by 
Moses,  and  to  produce  similar  phenomena.  "First,  it  was 
necessary  that  these  magicians  should  be  suffered  to  exert  the 
utmost  of  their  power  against  Moses,  in  order  to  clear  him  from 
the  imputation  of  magic."  "Secondly,  it  was  necessary  in  order 
to  confirm  the  faith  of  the  wavering  and  desponding  Israelites, 
by  making  them  see  the  difference  between  Moses  acting  by 
the  power  of  God,  and  the  sorcerers  by  that  of  Satan.  And 
lastly,  in  order  to  preserve  them  afterwards  from  being  seduced 
by  any  false  miracles  from  the  true  worship  of  God." 

Jin.  Univ.  Hint.  Vol.  II,  b.  i.  chap.  7.  p.  563.  note  E. 

This  representation  appears  to  me  to  accord  better  with  the 
Mosaic  history,  than  the  foregoing  one. 


419 

Dr.  HENRY  HUNTER,  with  eloquence  peculiar  to  himself,  ex- 
hibits a  strong  reason  for  the  permission  gi'ven  to  the  magi- 
cians partially  to  imitate  the  miracles  of  Moses.  "Reasoning 
man  will  ask>  Why  were  not  impiety  and  infidelity  checked 
in  their  very  first  attempt;  Why  were  the  demons  of  Egypt 
left  in  possession  of  the  slightest  vestige  of  power,  to  oppose, 
or  to  imitate  the  mighty  power  of  God?  why  grant  to  Pharaoh 
and  his  magicians,  even  the  momentary  triumph  of  their  in- 
cantations? The  reason  is  obvious.  Had  the  Egyptian  enchant- 
ments been  attended  with  no  success,  and  produced  no  effect, 
infidelity  had  its  plea  at  hand.  'Your  pretended  miracle  is  mere 
illusion,  an  attempt  to  mislead  our  understanding,  by  imposing 
upon  our  senses.  Though  we  cannot  produce  this  particular 
effect,  perform  this  particular  trick,  by  our  art,  we  can  effect 
wonders  equally  or  much  more  astonishing.  But,  by  being 
permitted  to  succeed  in  their  first  effort,  and  to  rival  Moses  and 
Aaron  so  far,  in  power  and  reputation,  they  are  insensibly 
4lrawn  in,  to  give  their  sanction  to  the  sign  performed  by  the 
Hebrews,  for  the  sake  of  their  own  credit;  and  no  sooner  is  it 
stamped  for  currency,  with  their  image  and  superscription, 
than  they  and  their  abettors  are  confounded,  by  seeing  the 
wretched  impression  of  their  art  effaced,  annihilated;  and  no 
image  remains  visible  but  that  of  the  living  and  true  God.  The 
power  which  swallowed  up  the  magicians'  rods,  could  as  easily 
have  prevented  the  transmutation;  but  the  confutation  is  much 
more  complete  by  the  one  than  it  would  have  been  by  the  other. 
Impiety  has  shut  her  own  mouth,  and  infidelity  stands  stripped 
of  her  last,  and  only  plea." 

Hunter's  Sacred  Biog.  Vol.  III,Lect.  V.  p.  1 15—117. 
The  truly  great  and  estimable  SAURIN,  with  equal  ability  and 
success,  in  an  admirable  and  compact  chain  of  reasoning,  which 
however  beautiful,  cannot,  on  account  of  its  copiousness,  be 
admitted  into  this  note,  places  the  subject  in  four  points  of 
view.  He  tries  it,  first,  by  "the  narrative  of  Moses:"  secondly, 
by  "the  history  of  enchantments  transmitted  by  every  age:'* 
thirdly,  by  "metaphysical  speculations;"  and  fourthly,  "at  the 
tribunal  of  religion;"  and  in  each  of  these  modes  of  discussion, 
proves,  that  we  shall  find  reasons  for  suspending  our 
ment  on  this  mysterious  subject, 

Consult  Saur.  Disc*  ^c.  sur  la  Bible;  Tom.  I.  disc, 


420 

To  this  modest  and  ingenuous  confession,  I    do  most  cheer- 
fully subscribe. 

After  such  a  declaration,  from  such  a  man  as  Saurin,  it  would 
ill  become  me  to  attempt  to  determine  upon  so  nice  a  point. 
But  after  so  large  statements  of  the  views  of  others  and  such 
free  comments  upon  them,  it  may  perhaps  be  expected  that  I 
should  as  frankly  avow  my  own  opinion.  Dr.  GKDDES,  whose 
criticisms  are  often  estimable,  yet  whose  assertions  are  some- 
times announced  without  a  pretension  to  reasoning,  and  whose 
conclusions  are  almost  always  levelled  avowedly  against  the 
authority  of  Moses,  has  never  discovered  the  traits  which  I  have 
described,  more  decidedly  than  in  his  remarks  on  the 
present  subject.  He  notices  the  opinion  of  legerdemain,  and 
says,  "the  text  is  expressly  against  all  such  interpretations: 
and  we  may  as  well  say,  that  the  rod  of  Moses  was  not  a  real  rod, 
as  that  the  rods  of  the  magicians  were  not  real  rods." — He 
differs,  however,  from  every  solution  which  ever  has  been,  or 
perhaps  ever  can  be,  given;  and  declares,  "It  would  be  wiser, 
perhaps,  although  not  so  honest,  to  say  nothing  at  all;  but  that 
is  not  my  manner:  I  must  say  what  I  think;  let  others  think  and 
^peak  as  they  please."  And  what  is  this  opinion,  which  a  pro. 
fessedly  Christian  divine  could  entertain,  and  which  his  fidelity 
prompted  him  to  publish  to  the  world?  "I  am  clearly  of  opinion 
that  neither  the  magicians  of  Pharaoh,  nor  the  legislator  of  the 
Hebrews,  changed  their  rods  into  serpents,  any  more  than  the 
sorceress  Circe  turned  the  companions  of  Ulysses  into  swine: 
but  that  either  the  Hebrew  historian,  whoever  he  was,  invented 
the  whole  story;  or  that,  if  ever  any  such  trial  of  magical  skill 
took  place,  the  deception  was  equal  on  both  sides." 

Gcddf**  Crt't.  Rein.  Vol.  I.  on  Exod.  viii,  p.  181,  8cc. 
And  this  is  Biblical  Criticism!  And  this  is  fair,  candid  rea- 
soning! And  this  is  learned  and  liberal  research!  What  then  is 
to  be  deemed  arrogant,  unqualified  assertion?  What  can  be 
accounted  indecent  levity,  and  disrespectful  trifling?  If  he  did 
not  blush  to  write  such  a  passage,  I  should  blush  to  comment 
upon  it,  so  as  to  attempt  a  serious  refutation  of  it!  It  was  not 
thus  that  Jesus  Christ  himself  spoke,  and  thought,  of  Moses, 
of  his  writings,  and  of  his  authority. 

\Vith  no  less  of  integrity,  I  will  candidly  avow  the  opinion 
which  lam  inclined  to  foim  upon  a  subject  concerning  which  I 
dear  not  attempt  to  decide;  and  without  presuming  to  press 


421 

my  sentiment  upon  any  reader,  I  shall  state  it  as  briefly  as  pos- 
sible, with  the  reasons  upon  which  I  hold  it.  Upon  the  whole, 
I  think,  " 

1.  That    both   the  miracles  fierformed  by  Moses,  and  those 
wrought  by  the  magicians  were  real.     For  had  not  this  been  the 
case,  would  not  Moses  as  easily  have  detected  the  imposition, 
as  Elijah   silenced  the  prophets  of  Baal?  Has  the  Mosaic  ac- 
count given  the  slightest   intimation  that  they  were  phantoms? 
On  the  contrary,  has  he  not  spoken  of  them  in  the  same  terms, 
as  he  speaks  of  his  own?  I  am  also  inclined  to  think, 

2.  That  the  magicians  knew  not  the  extent  of  their  own  flowers. 
In  making  the  experiment,  they  obeyed  the  command  of  Pharaoh: 
they  were  doubtless  prepared  to  do  their  best,  and  to  use  what- 
ever deception  the  circumstances  of  the  moment  might  allow. 
It  is  evident  that  they  tried  all  the  miracles  of  Moses,  and  could 
succeed  but  in  a  few;  a  decisive  proof  that  they  knew  not  where 
their  power  would  be  stayed,  or  to  what  point  it  would  be  per- 
mitted  to  extend.       Perhaps  they  were  as  much  surprised  at 
their  success,  as  the  spectators  could  be,  in  the  first  instance; 
So  convinced  were  they  of  divine  agency  on  the  suspension  of 
their  partial   power,  that  they  confessed  "this  is  the  linger  of 
God."      But  the  miracle  at  which  their  agency  ceased,  was  as 
easy  to  be  performed,  to  all  appearance,  as  those  in  which  they 
succeeded;  and  the  inference  appears  to  be,  that  they  were  not 
effected  by  the  power  of  art.     It  appears  to  me, 

3.  That  they  must  have   fierformed  these  miracles  by  the  fier- 
?nission,  and  under  the  fiower,  of  God.  And  when  this  power  was 
^ithheld  from  them,  and  continued  to  Moses,   they  instantly 
acknowledged  the  hand  of  Deity. 

4.  Admitting  that   both  Moses   and  the  magicians  wrought 
their   respective   miracles  by  the  power  or  permission  of  God, 
when  their  capacity  to  effect  them  ceased,  and    that  of  Moses 
remained,  a  decisive  evidence  was  afforded  of  the  truth  of  his 
mission. 

5.  The  phrase,  "they  did  it  by  their  enchantments,*'  docs  not 
appear  to  me  to  destroy  this  hypothesis,  but  only  to  mean,  that 
they  used  some  form  and  fiarade,  to  impress  the    minds  of  the 
spectators  with  veneration  of  their  power  and   wisdom,  and  to 
secure  to   themselves  the  credit  and  fame    of  their  success. 
This  parade,   however,  availed  them  nothing,  when  Uieir  per- 


422 

mission  to  work  miracles  expired,  and  they  were  compelled  to 
acknowledge    the  interposition  of  divine  power. 

In  respect  to  this  opinion,  which  is  submitted  with  diffidence, 
the  reader  will  form  his  awn  conclusion,  of  its  probability  or  the 
contrary.  I  will  not  avouch  that  it  is  original,  although  if  it  be 
borrowed,  I  cannot  recollect  the  source  from  whence  I  drew  it, 
nor  of  course  make  my  acknowledgements.  It  is  more  than 
probable  that  I  have  met  with  it,  in  the  course  of  reading,  and 
treasured  it  up  from  its  coincidence  with  my  own  views!  but  if 
I  could  trace  it  to  its  au'.hor,  I  would  not  hesitate  to  give  a  full 
reference  to  his  own  statement.  It  is  common  to  every  man 
who  endeavors  to  digest  what  he  reads,  to  mingle  the  thoughts 
of  others  with  his  own;  and  it  is  not  always  easy  to  determine, 
which  of  our  stores  we  may  claim  as  original,  and  which  we 
ought  to  acknowledge  as  borrowed:  nor  to  distinguish  between 
that  which  we  conceive  and  that  which  we  only  remember. 

NOTE  2. — Respecting  jthc  term  of  Israel's  bondage,  the  writ- 
ers of  the  Ancient  Universal  History,  a  fiord  the  following  inge- 
nious, and,  as  it  appears  to  me,  just  solution. 

"It  is  plain,  that  the  four  hundred  years  of  Abram's  seed 
sojourning  in  a  strange  land,  must  be  reckoned  not  from  their 
coming  into  Egypt,  but  from  the  birth  of  Isaac.  For  all  the 
time  of  their  sojourning  in  the  land  of  Canaan,  Gerar,  or  any 
other,  was  still  in  a  strange  land,  in  which  they  had  not  a  foot  of 
ground,  if  we  except  the  cave  of  Maehpelah.  As  to  what  is 
added  that  they  shall  likewise  serve,  and  be  ill-treated,  it  is  com- 
monly understood  to  be  spoken  circumstantially,  and  might  be 
put  in  a  parenthesis,  thus,  'they  shall  sojourn  and  be  strangers 
(and  likewise  serve  and  be  oppressed)  during  the  space  of  four 
hundred  years,'  as  St.  Austin,  and  others,  have  fully  proved. 
Accordingly  we  find  Isaac  oppressed  in  Gcrar,  his  wells  filled 
np  by  its  inhabitants,  ami  himself  forced  still  farther  from  them, 
and  Jacob  served,  and  was  oppressed  by  Laban  near  twenty 
years,  yet  neither  of  them  labored  under  a  continual  oppres- 
sion. The  Egyptian  servitude  did  not  commence  till  after 
Joseph  and  all  his  brethren  \\cie  dead;  before  that,  the  Israel- 
ites lived  in  peace  and  plenty.  Allowing,  therefore,  that  Lcvi 
was  forty-four  years  o{  age  at  his  first  coming  into  Egypt, 
is  the  most  that  can  be  supposed,  he  must  have  lived 


423 

ninety-three  years  in  Egypt,  because  the  text  tells  us,  that  he 
died  in  the  137th  year  of  his  age.  And  these  93  years  being- 
subtracted  from  215,  the  time  of  their  abode  there,  there  will 
remain  but  142  years  of  thraldom,  even  supposing  it  to  have- 
began  immediately  after  his  death.  The  natural  sense  there- 
fore of  this  prophecy  to  Abraham  can  be  only  this,  that  his  seed, 
from  Isaac  on,  should  be  strangers  in  the  land,  that  was  not 
theirs,  during  the  space  of  400  years,  during  some  part  of 
which  they  should  be  oppressed,  afflicted,  and  at  length  brought 
under  bondage;  which  term  being  expired,  they  should  find  a 
happy  deliverance." 

Anc.  Univ.  Hint.  -vol.  it.  b.  i,  cha/u  7  ?iote  J£. 

NOTE  3. — In  the  account  which  Justin  has  given,  in  his 
abridgment  of  Trogus  Pompeius,  of  Moses,  and  of  the  deliver- 
ance of  Israel,  there  is  an  error,  arising  from  his  linking  this 
narrative  too  closely  with  the  history  of  Joseph,  (for  he  relates 
this  departure  in  the  very  same  chapter  in  which  he  speaks  of 
Joseph,)  and  in  his  supposing  Moses  to  be  the  son  of  Joseph. 
This  premised,  we  subjoin  his  testimony  on  these  faets^ 

Just.  Hist.  lib.  xxx-vi,  cafi.  ii. 

"Moses  was  his  son,  whose  beauty  of  person  recommended 
him,  no  less  than  his  inheritance  of  his  father's  science.  But 
the  Egyptians,  because  they  were  afflicted  with  a  scab  and  lep- 
rosy, admonished  by  an  oracle,  expelled  him,  with  the  diseased, 
from  the  borders  of  Egypt,  lest  the  malady  should  spread  gen- 
erally." 

NOTE  4 — Testimony  preserved  in  Diodorus  Siculus,  re- 
specting the  division  of  the  Red  Sea.  "Among  the  Ichthyo- 
phagi,  the  native  inhabitants  of  the  spot,  a  tradition  is  given, 
which  is  preserved  from  their  ancestors,  that  by  a  great  ebb  of 
the  waters,  the  whole  bosom  of  the  gulf  became  dry,  disclosing 
its  w.eeds,  the  sea  roiling  upon  the  opposite  shore.  But  the 
bare  earth  having  been  rendered  visible  from  the  very  bottom 
of  the  abyss,  the  tide  returning  in  its  strength,  restored  the  pas- 
sage once  more  to  its  former  condition. 

£>iod.  Sic.  lib.  »//,  fi.   122, 


424 


LECTURE   IX. 

NOTE  1. — Grotius  has  distinctly  enumerated  the  testimonies 
from  ancient  writers,  which  we  mentioned  generally:  to  which 
he  has  added  others  which  we  did  not  produce.  He  says,  respect- 
ing the  Orphic  verses,  "the  great  Scaliger  has  mended  the  pas- 
sage, by  changing  a  letter;  and  instead  of  reading  the  word 
•jxo}«/j>f,  as  Eusebius,  in  his  Prep.  Evan.  lib.  xiii.  cap.  12.  quotes 
it  from  Aristobulus,  he  bids  us  read  it  IA&>WIC"— *born  of  the  water. 
His  quotation  from  Strabo  is  not  inserted  here,  because,  while 
his  testimony  to  the  great  character  of  Moses  is  decisive,  he 
has  mingled  the  fable  of  tradition  so  entirely  with  his  evidence, 
that  the  passage  would  not  be  worthy  the  room  it  would  occu- 
py in  this  note.  It  is  in  his  xvi.  book.  There  is  a  remarka- 
ble testimony  in  Diodorus  Siculus,  in  the  first  book  of  his  history, 
comprised  in  a  single  sentence.  He  had  been  speaking  of 
those  who  assert  that  the  gods  were  the  authors  of  their  laws — 
and  adds,  &*£*.  i*J**c;?  ft  Maxw  TC,V  IMP  wriKaxxufvov  €><w~ds  Moses, 
who,  among'  the  Jews,  called  God,  ^&  (Ino.)  Grotius  quotes 
this  passage  also,  and  says,  that  by  **»•  (Ino.}  mrv  f  Jehovah.} 
is  intended;  and  that  the  name  was  so  pronounced,  "by  the  ora- 
cles, in  the  Orphic  verses,  by  the  Basilidian  heretics,  and  oth- 
er Gnostics:"  also,  with  little  variation,  "by  the  Tyrians." 
These  quotations,  with  his  important  remarks,  are  to  be  found 
in  his  truth  of  the  Christian  Religion:  book  i.  sect.  16.  notes 
83—101. 

NOTE  2.  Testimony  of  Josephus,  to  the  early  settlement  of 
the  Jews  in  Canaan.  Thus  far  Manetheo.  Therefore  estimat- 
ing the  time  from  the  beginning-  of  those  years,  (alluding  to  some 
foregoing  calculations  according  to  Manetho's  history)  it  will 
afifiear^  that  our  ancestors,  whom  they  call  shefihcrds,  migrated 
from  Egyfit,  and  inhabited  this  country,  393  years  before  Dana- 
us  came  to  jirgos,  which  is  nevertheless  celebrated  by  the 
Greeks  for  antiquity.  Josephus  adds,  "that  two  things  are 
evident  from  Manciho's  account:  first,  that  the  Jews  came  from 
another  place  to  Egypt:  secondly,  that  they  left  them  again, 
and  that  nearly  a  thousand  years  before  the  Trojan  war." 
Lowth  says,  that  this  calculation  is  double  the  true  distance  of 
time  between  these  events.  However,  the  establishment  of 


421 

the  Jews  in  Canaan,  is  much  earlier  than  any  Grecian  writer,1 
or  history.  Sec  Joscfihus,  Appfon.  Tom.  If.  lib.  i.  fi.  1339- 
1 1  ml  no  ni  edit.  4 

LECTURE  X. 

NOTE  I. — It  would  have  been  foreign  from  the  immediate 
object  of  the  preceding  Lecture,  to  have  entered  into  any  dis- 
cussion of  the  appearance  of  Samuel  to  Saul:  but  I  cannot  for- 
bear entering  my  individual  protest  against  the  opinions,  either 
that  the  sorceress  made  some  person  in  her  interest  personate 
the  apparition 'of  the  prophet,  or  that  some  demon  attempted 
such  a  personification.  I  believe  that  it  was  indeed  the  spirit 
of  Samuel — and  I  shall  subjoin,  as  the  best  illustration  of  my 
own  views,  the  following  able  testimonies. 

The  ingenious  writers  of  the  ENCYCLOPEDIA  BRITTANNICA 
reason  thus — 

"Some  have  thought  there  was  nothing  more  than  a  trick, 
by  which  a  cunning  woman  imposed  upon  Saul's  credulity, 
making  him  believe  that  some  confident  of  her  own  was  the 
ghost  of  Samuel.  But  had  that  been  the  case,  she  would  un- 
doubtedly have  made  the  pretended  Samuel's  answer,  as  pleas- 
ing to  the  king  as  possible,  both  to  save  her  own  life,  which 
appears  from  the  context  to  have  been  in  danger,  and  likewise 
to  have  procured  the  larger  reward.  She  would  never  have 
told  her  sovereign,  she  durst  not  have  told  him,  that  he  himself 
should  be  shortly  slain,  and  his  sons  with  him;  and  that  the  host 
of  Israel  should  be  delivered  into  the  hand  of  the  Philistines.* 
For  this  reason  many  critics,  both  Jewish  and  Christian,  have 
supposed  that  the  apparition  was  really  a  demon,  or  evil  angel, 
by  whose  assistance  the  woman  was  accustomed  to  work  won- 
ders, and  to  foretel  future  events.  But  it  is  surely  very  incred- 
ible, that  one  of  the  apostate  spirits  of  hell,  should  have  up- 
braided Saul  for  applying  to  a  sorceress,  or  should  have  accost- 
ed him  in  such  words  as  these:  'Why  hast  thou  disquieted  7721? 
to  bring  me  up?  Wherefore  dost  thou  ask  of  me,  seeing  the 
Lord  is  departed  from  thee,  and  is  become  thine  enemy?  For 
the  Lord  hath  rent  the  kingdom  out  of  thine  hand,  and  given  it 
to  thy  neighbor,  even  to  David.  Because  thou  obeyedst  not 

*It  was  impossible  that  she  could  have  prejudged  thR  pvent  of  a  ba{- 
tle  than  which  nothing1  is  more  uncertain. 

54 


422 

the  voice  ol  the  Lord,  therefore  the  Aorrfhath  done  ibis  thing  t<r 
thee  this  day.'  It  is  to  be  observed  farther,  that  what  was 
here  denounced  against  Saul  was  really  prophetic,  and  that 
the  event  answered  to  the  prophecy  in  every  particular.  Now, 
though  we  do  not  deny  that  there  are  created  spirits  of  pene- 
triiton  vastly  superior  to  that  of  the  most  enlarged  human 
understanding;  yet  we  dare  maintain,  that  no  finite  intelligence 
could  by  its  own  mere  capacity  have  ever  found  out  the  precise 
time  of  the  two  armies  engaging,  the  success  of  the  Philistines, 
the  consequences  of  the  victory,  and  the  very  names  of  the 
persons  that  were  to  fall  in  the  battle.  Saul  and  his  sons  were 
indeed  men  of  tried  bravery,  and  therefore  likely  to  expose 
themselves  to  the  greatest  danger;  but  after  the  menaces 
which  he  received  from  the  apparition,  he  would  have  been  im- 
pelled, one  should  think,  by  common  prudence,  either  to  chi- 
cane with  the  enemy,  or  to  retire  from  the  field  without  ex- 
posing himself,  his  sons,  and  the  whole  army  to  certain  and  in- 
evitable destruction;  and  bis  acting  differently,  with  the  con- 
sequences of  his  conduct,  were  events  which  no  limited  under- 
standing could  either  foresee  or  certainly  foretel.  If  to  these 
circumstances  we  add  the  suddenness  of  Samuel's  appear- 
ance, with  the  effect  which  it  had  upon  the  sorceress  herself, 
we  shall  find  reason  to  believe  that  the  apparition  was  that  of 
no  evil  demon.  There  is  not,  we  believe,  upon  record,  anoth- 
er instance  of  any  person's  pretending  to  raise  a  ghost  from 
below,  without  previously  using  some  magical  rites,  or  some 
form  of  incantation.  As  nothing  of  that  kind  is  mentioned  in 
the  case  before  us,  it  is  probable  that  Samuel  appeared  before 
lie  was  called.  It  is  likewise  evident  from  the  narrative,  that 
the  apparition  was  not  what  the  woman  expected;  for  we  are  told 
that  \vhcn  she  saw  Samuel,  she  cried  out  for  fear.  And  when 
the  king  exhorted  her  not  to  be  afraid,  and  asked  what  she 
saw,  'the  woman  said,  I  "see  gods  (elohim)  ascending  out  of 
the  earth.'  Now,  hud  she  been  accustomed  to  do  such  feats, 
and  known  that  what  she  saw  was  only  her  subservient  demon, 
it  is  not  conceivable  that  she  could  have  been  so  frightened,  or 
have  mistaken  her  familiar  for  elohim  in  any  sense  in  which 
that  word  can  be  taken.  We  are  therefore  strongiy  inclined  to 
adopt  the  opinion  of  those  who  hold  that  it  was  Samuel  him- 
self who  appeared  and  prophccicd,  not  called  up  by  the  wretch- 
ed woman  »r  her  demons,  but,  to  her  inter  confusion,  and  the 


423 

disgrace  of  her  art,  sent  by  God  to  rebuke  Saul's  madness  in  a 
most  affecting  and  mortifying  way,  and  to  deter  all  others  from 
ever  applying  to  magicians  or  demons  for  assistance  when  re- 
fused comfort  from  Heaven.  For  though  this  hypothesis  may, 
to  a  superficial  thinker,  seem  to  transgress  the  rule  of  Horace 
— nee  Deus  intersit,  &c. — which  is  as  applicable  to  the  interpre- 
tation of  scripture,  as  to  the  introduction  of  supernatural  agency 
in  human  compositions;  yet  he  who  has  studied  the  theo- 
cratical  constitution  of  Israel,  the  nature  of  the  office 
which  was  there  termed  regal,  and  by  what  means  the  admin- 
istration was  in  emergencies  conducted,  will  have  a  different 
opinion,  and  at  once  perceive  the  dignus  -vindice  nodus." 

Encyc.  Brit.  Vol,  X.  fit.  ii.  art.  MAGIC. 
Of  the  same  opinion  is  the  pious  Mr.  HERVEY— - 
"1  Sam.  xxviii,  19.— -On  this  place  the  DUTCH  translator  of 
the  Meditations  has  added  a  note;  to  correct,  very  probably, 
what  he  supposes  a  mistake.  On  the  same  supposition,  I  pre- 
sume, the  compilers  of  our  Rubric  ordered  the  last  verse  of 
Eccles.  xlvi,  to  be  omitted,  in  the  daily  service  of  the  Church. 
But  that  the  sentiment,  hinted  above,"  (an  opinion  coinciding 
with  that  just  stated)  "is  strictly  true;  that  it  was  Kirrbinnw 
SAMUEL  HIMSELF  (not  an  infernal  spirit,  personating  the  proph- 
et) who  appeared  to  the  female  necromancer  at  Endor;  appear- 
ed not  in  compliance  with  any  diabolical  incantation,  but  in 
pursuance  of  the  divine  commission;  this,  I  think,  is  fully 
proved  in  the  HISTORICAL  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  LIFE  OF  DAVID, 
vol.  I.  chap.  23." 

Heyvey's  Medit.  Vol.  I.  ft.  250{  notes.  Hejitinstall's  edit. 

NOTE  2. — In  the  translation  of  David's  lamentation  over  Jona- 
athan,  I  have  not  departed  from  the  literal  rendering  of  our 
own  Bible,  but  where  it  appeared  to  me  that  the  reading  was 
amended  or  elucidated  by  the  alteration.  In  rendering  the 
2 1st  verse,  "there  the  shield  of  the  mighty  is  vilely  cast  away, 
the  shield  of  Saul,  the  armor  of  the  anointed  with  oil;"  I  have 
followed  the  translation  of  Dr.  Geddes:  who  has  the  following 
note  on  the  word  ,'armour" — "From  the  small  change  of  one 
letter  into  another,  of  a  very  similar  form,  arises  this  opposite 
rendering.  Interpreters  made  a  shift  to  translate  the  present 
text  thus;  as  if  he  had  not  been  anointed  with  oil.  By  what  rules* 
of  translation  I  know  not."  His  translation  of  this  lamentation 
is  singularly  beautiful  throughout.  He  renders  the  beginning 


424 

of  it  _  «O  a-ntelcjfie  of  Israel!  pierced  on  thine  own  mountains!" 
This  rendering  is  correctly  literal:  but  as  the  word  *3»n  also 
signifies  ornamentum,*  I  have  preferred  the  rendering  "O  beauty 
of  Israel,  Sec."  as  in  the  Lecture. 

NOTE  3.  —  Testimony  of  Menandcr,  the  historian,  to  the 
drought  in  the  days  of  Elijah,  preserved  by  Josephus: 
—  "Menander  also  notes  this  defect  of  rain  in  the  acts  of  Itho- 
bal,  king  of  the  Tyrians,  speaking  thus:  "  lThcre  was  a  dcfi. 
ciency  of  rain  from  the  month  of  October,  until  October  in  the 
succeeding  year.  But  he  indeed  praying  there  followed  much 
thunder.  He  built  the  city  of  Botrys  in  Phcniciu,  and  Auza  in 
Lybia."  And  certainly  he  relates  these  things  of  the  drought 
which  happened  in  the  time  of  Ahab,  for  at  that  time  Ithobal 
DID  reign  over  the  Tyrians,  as  Menandcr  himself  writes." 

Josefih.  Antiq.  Jud.  Tom.  I.  lib.  via,  ca/i.  xiii,  p.  378.  Hudsojii 
edit. 

Testimonies  of  Julian  and  of  Cyprian,  quoted  by  Grotius, 
relative  to  the  fire  which  consumed  the  sacrifice  of  Elijah.  Ju- 
lianus  in  libro  Cyrilli  decimo. 


jV  etw*^  rxro  wri  Mavnuf  rytviio,  x.*t  trt  H\/« 

?.—  Vide  sequentia  de  ignc  ccclesti;  Cyprianus 
Testimoniorurn  III.  Item  in  sacrificiis  quxcunquc  accepta 
habebat  Deus,  desccndebat  ignis  de  ccelo  qui  sacrificata  con- 
sumeret."  "Julian  in  the  tenth  book  of  Cyril:  4Ye  refuse  to 
bring  sacrifices  to  the  altar,  and  to  present  them,  because  that 
fire  does  not  descend  from  heaven  to  consume  the  victims,  as 
in  the  time  of  Moses.  This  happened  indeed  to  Moses,  and 
long  after  also  to  Elijah  the  Tishbito/'  Sec  what  follows 
also  concerning  the  fire  from  heaven;  Cyprian,  in  the  Third 
of  their  Testimonies,  says  —  "'That  in  the  sacrifices,  what 
soever  had  acceptance  with  God,  fire  came  down  from  heaven 
which  consumed  the  things  offered." 

Grotius  dc  Vtr.  Ri-lig.  C/irist.  sect,  xvi,  not. 

*S-  IK-hiew  Conc'-nhti.ce  on  the  won1:  my 


425 
LECTURE  XI. 

NOTE  1. — Sec  page  298. 

NOTK  2. — Testimony  of  Menander  to  the  character  and  acts 
of  Shalmaneser,  preserved  in  Josephus,  and  translated  in  this 
Lecture. 

NOTE  3.— The  following  description  of  the  temple  of  Belus 
is  extracted  from  the  writers  of  the  Ancient  Universal  History, 
vol.  I.  book  i.  chap.  2,  pa.^e  417.  Dublin  edit.  1745.  It  is  neces- 
sary to  mention  the  edition  when  a  reference  is  made  to  the 
page,  because  there  are  several  editions  which  differ  materially 
in  this  respect. 

"Herodotus  tells  us,  it  was  a  furlong  in  length,  and  as  much 
in  breadth;  and  Strabo  determines  the  height  to  have  been  a 
furlong,  that  is,  the  eighth  part  of  a  mile,  or  six  hundred  and 
sixty  feet,  which  is  itself  prodigious;  for  thereby  it  appears  to 
have  exceeded  the  greatest  of  the  Egyptian  pyramids  in  height, 
one  hundred  and  seventy-nine  feet,  though  it  fell  short  of  it  at 
the  base  by  thirty-three.  It  consisted  of  eight  square  towers 
one  above  another,  gradually  decreasing  in  breadth;  which,  with 
the  winding  of  the  stairs  from  the  top  to  the  bottom  on  the  out- 
side, gave  it  the  resemblance  of  a  pyramid,  as  Strabo  calls  it. 
This  antique  form,  joined  to  the  extraordinary  height  of  the 
structure,  easily  induces  us  to  believe  it  to  be  the  same  tower 
mentioned  by  Moses;  Nebuchadne-zzar  finishing  the  design, 
which  the  sons  of  Noah  were  obliged,  by  the  confusion  of 
tongues,  to  leave  unexecuted."  And  again  they  add  in  a  note: 
"The  words  of  Herodotus  are:  'Ev  pi<ra>  <$t  rw  /§«  mgyoc  ?!'%&$  oiMfo[*.»v<u, 

fflctfix   KOU  TO  {Amos  ant  TO  vj^  nai  &ri  TXTM  <ru>  Trvgy®  CLX\OC   wgycs    vriZ&m-,  K.XI 

fcngoc  (Max*  wn  TUT®,  ,Ms^/c  oc/  on.ro>  yngyw.  "In  the  midst  of  the  temple  a 
solid  tower  is  built,  of  a  furlong  in  length  and  as  much  in 
breadth;  and  upon  this  tower  another  tower  is  erected,  and 
another  again  upon  that,  and  so  on  to  the  number  of  eight 
towers.*  It  is  true,  the  word  /uwtsc  which  we  here  translate 
length^  may  also  signify  height:  but  some  authors  having  thence 
supposed,  as  the  construction  seems  to  require,  that  the  first 
tower  was  a  furlong  high,  and  concluding  the  other  seven  to  be 
of  equal  height,  have  made  the  whole  a  mile  high;  to  avoid 
which  extravagant  consequence,  it  seems  more  reasonable,  to 


426 

understand  Herodotus  as  we  have  rendered  the  passage,  unless 
the  furlong  be  taken  for  the  height  of  all  the  eight  towers." 
And  it  appears  to  me  that  the  construction  of  the  passage  will 
not  allow  this  last  conclusion:  for  whether  the  wo*rd  /"w^rbe  ren- 
dered height  or  length,  it  evidently  refers  tothe^rsf  tower;  and 
it  is  expressly  said  that  "another  was  built  upon  this" — and  so 
on.  I  conclude,  therefore,  that  these  words  of  Herddotus  refer 
to  its  length,  and  its  breadth,  without  adverting  at  ail  to  its 
height,  which  Strabo  says  was  also  a  furlong.  According  to 
this  last  mentioned  author  it  was  exactly  a  furlong  every  way. 

NOTE  4. — See  page  3 13. 

NOTE  5. — Seventy  years  had  been  predicted  as  the  term  of 
the  cap'tivity  of  Judah.  Some  have  computed  from  the  fourth 
year  of  Jehoiakim  to  the  first  issuing  of  Cyrus*  decree.  Others 
from  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem  to  the  publication  of  Darius' 
decree,  in  the  fourth  year  of  his  reign.  The  discussion  of  this 
point  is  immaterial:  since  either  way  seventy  years  were  accom- 
plished. 

The  writers  of  the  Ancient  Univ.  Hist,  date  it  from  the  first 
taking  of  the  city  in  the  reign  of  Jehoiakim,  and  they  say,  in  a 
note,  "This  Usher  proves  to  have  happened  in  the  ninth  month, 
from  the  anniversary  fast,  which  the  Jews  have  kept  ever  since 
in  memory  of  that  calamity.  This  is  the  more  worth  observing, 
because  the  seventy  years  cafitivity  foretold  by  Jeremiah)  must 
be  reckoned  from  this  efiocha" 

NOTE  6. — The  following  description  of  the  Simoom  is  given 
in  Bruce's  Travels,  vol.  vi,  p.  461,  462.  Ediuburgh  8vo.  edit,  of 
1804.  He  says,  "that  an  extreme  redness  in  the  air  was  a  sure 
presage  of  the  coming  of  the  Simoom."  And  his  conductor 
through  the  desert  warned  him  and  his  servants  "that  upon  the 
coming  of  the  Simoom"  they  "should  fall  upon  their  faces, 
\\ith  their  mouths  upon  the  earth,  so  as  not  to  partake  of  the 
outward  air,  as  long  as  they  could  hold  their  breath."  And  he 
thus  describes  its  fearful  approach  and  effects.  "At  eleven 
o'clock,  while  \vc  contemplated  with  great  pleasure  the  rugged 
top  of  Chiggre,  to  which  we  were  fast  approaching,  and  where 
we  were  te  solace  ourselves  with  plenty  of  good  water,  Idris 
cried  out  with  a  loud  voice,  Tall  upon  your  faces,  for  here  is  the 


427 

sfmoom!  I  saw  from  the  south-east  a  haze  come,  in  color  like 
the  purple  part  of  the  rainbow,  but  not  so  compressed  or  thick. 
It  did  not  occupy  twenty  yards  in  breadth,  and  was  about  twelve 
feet  high  from  the  ground.  It  was  a  kind  of  blush  upon  the  air, 
and  it  moved  very  rapidly,  for  I  scarce  coykl  turn  to  fall  upon 
.the  ground  with  my  head  to  the  northward,  when  I  felt  the  heat 
of  its  current  plainly  upon  my  face.  We  all  lay  flat  upon  the 
ground,  as  if  dead,  till  Idris  told  us  it  was  blown  over.  The 
meteor,  or  purple  haze,  which  I  saw,  was  indeed  passed,  but  the 
light  aii  that  still  bic\v  was  of  heat  to  threaten  suffocation.  For 
my  part,  I  found  distinctly  in  my  breast  that  I  had  imbibed  a 
part  of  it,  nor  was  I  free  of  an  asthmatic  sensation  till  I  had 
been  some  months  in  Italy,  ut  the  baths  of  Poretta,  near  tv>o 
years  afterwards." 

NOTE  7. — We  do  net  sufficiently  consider  under  whose  direc- 
tion are  the  desolation  of  tiit  earth,  and  by  whose  permission 
the  hero  conquers.  Jeremiah  awfully  unveils  the  cause  of  Ju- 
dah's  and  Israel's  calamities,  when  he  says,  "The  Lord  vas  an 
enemy:  he  hath  swallowed  up  Israel,  he  hath  swallowed  up  all 
her  palaces;  he  hath  destroyed  his  strong  holds,  and  hath  in- 
creased in  the  daughter  of  Judah  mourning  and  lamentation. 
And  he  hath  violently  taken  away  his  tabernacle,  as  if  it  were 
of  a  garden,  he  hath  destroyed  his  places  of  the  assembly:  the 
Lord  hath  caused  the  solemn  feasts  and  sabbaths  to  be  forgotten 
in  Zion,  and  hath  despised  in  the  indignation  of  his  anger  the 
king  and  the  priest."  Lamentations  ?Y,  5,  6. 

And  this  reminds  me  of  a  most  beautiful  passage  in  Virgil, 
in  which  the  poet  represents  the  deities  engaged  in  the  subver- 
sion of  Troy. 

"Here,  where  you  behold  bulwarks  cast  down,  and  stones 
rent  from  stones,  and  waving  smoke  mingling  with  dust,  Nep- 
tune shakes  the  walls,  and  the  heaving  foundations,  with  his 
great  trident,  and  overthrows  the  whole  city  from  its  bases. 
There,  Juno,  the  most  inexorable,  occupies  the  Scaean  gates, 
und  girded  with  a  sword,  calls  the  raging  army  of  the  allies 
from  their  ships.  Then  behold  Tritonian  Pallas  sits  upon  the 
highest  citadels,  effulgent  on  a  cloud,  and  with  her  terrible 
aegis.  Jupiter  himself  supplies  courage,  and  renewed  forces, 
to  the  Grecians;  himself  sth's  up  tLe  gods  agninst  the  Trojan 


428 


LECTURE  XII. 

No  IK  1. — sec   PLS^C   325. 

NOTE  2. — I  have   translated  «J;,««  A«§  axrrx  ™  *y?»>«    «    TMWSK«;J» 
— .'/ 1-     cf    the     Rant    have    seen      his     star,  —  referring     the 
term-  /£</*/,    not     to     the     part  of    the  heavens    in    which    the 
Uar  appealed,  but  to  the   country  whence  they  came.  I  believe 
that  I  am  not  alone  in  this  translation;  and  if  I  mistake  not,  this, 
ur  a  very  similar  one,  is  the  rendering  of  Dr.   Cambell,   in  his 
now  translation  of  the    gospels.  Another  explanation  is  offered 
by  Poolc  in  his  learned  and   laborious  Synopis — which   is,  We 
have  his  star  at  its  rising;  and  he  adds,  that  the  Greek    astrono- 
mer use  the  term  A-JAT^/H     to  imply    the    rising  of   any  heavenly 
body,  undfuru  for  its  setting.       Thus  the  pas-sage  may    mean — 
ue  saw  this  star  from  its  very  first  appearance,  at    the  moment 
when  it  began  to  shine  in  the  heavens;  and  its  position  appear- 
ed   to  us  to   mart    its    relation    to    Judea.     And   this   learned 
writer,  moreover,  informs  us,  that  the   professors  of  astrology 
(and  such  perhaps  were  these  Magi)  were  accustomed  to  assign 
certain  spaces  of  the  heavens,  in  their  calculations,   to    certain 
correspondent  regions  of  the  earth.       "Ad  exortum   ejits,  sivc, 
(jucm  orirctur:  Hue  facil,  1  quod  Grcccis  astronornis  onus  stella- 
rum  dicitur  wr's,»,  et,  JTVTO.JI  (ut  a.<.>mh»  IIMB,  onus  sofa,  Apoc.  7  3. 
et    occa.vus  earum,  *'JTl'>'    2    quod    oriens,  sicut  et  occidetis,  plur 
num.  *V*TM.«  et,  «uTy<r«i,   plcrumquc    exprimuntur,  Malt.    8,     11 
et  24,  27,  Luc.   13  29.  Crcdibilc  est,  appaniisse  hanc  stellum  in 
eucccli  pane,  quoe  consensu  astrologorum  ad  Judxam  pcitinuit, 
ut  solent  ab  ejus  artis  professoribus  tcrrarum    regiones    certis 
occli  spatiis  ascribi:  QUGC  dico,non  quod  superstitiosis  arioladoji- 
ibus  patrocinai'i  cupiam,  srd  (piod  arbitrcr  Dcum  ita  res  dispon- 
ere,  ut  ca,  qux,  sivc  jure,    sive    injaria,    magni   apud  homines 
t,  interdum  trahat  in  vcri  ti  stin.onium." 

2yul  Sijnofi.   Crit.    T^in.   IV  in  Matt.  ca/i.  //, 

:  K  3. — Testimonies  of  Pliny  and  of  Chaloidius,  relative  to 
the  appcanuu  it  <>i  ihis  luminous  body:     The  p  are  tlnis 

ted  and  quoted  by  the    Author    wh<  ..irks  form  the 

substance  of  the  former  note. 

Hue  <  t  illud  PI.IMI,  (qui  ex    obscura    fatua   auclitum    refert, 

ipsc    ignorans)    qui  "apparuisse   aliquando'* 

-.dibit  ''Conictam  '.aiididum,  ai'genteo  criuc  iia  reful^ei.tcin,  ut 


438 

vix  contueri  licuerit,  specieque  humana  Deieffigiem  inse  osten- 
dcntem." 

Testimonium  CHALCIDII  PLATONICI  (modo >v»<r/ov  sit)  apposi- 
tum  est,  "Sane  notanda  est,"  inquit,"  alia  sanctior  et  venerabil- 
ior  liistoria,  quse  perhibet  de  ortu  stellce  cujusdum,  non  morbos 
mortesque  denunciantem,  sed  descensmn  Dei  vcnerabilis  ad  hu- 
manac  conversation's,  rerumque  mortalium,  gratiam;  quam 
stellam  cum  nocturne  itinere  suspexissent  Chaldaeorum  pro- 
fecto  sapientcs  viri,  et  consideratione  rerum  ccelestium  satis 
exercitati,  qusisse  clicuntur  recentis  Dei  ortum,  repertaqee  il- 
ia Maj  estate  pueril,  vcnerati  esse,  et  vota  Deo  tanto  conveni- 
cntia  nuncupasse." 

foli  Synopsis  Crit.     Tom.  IV.  in  Matt.  cap.  zY,  2. 

Jcsephus  might  well  add,  that  he  \vas  a  man  "totallv  alien- 
ated from  humanity" — and  express  his  surprise  that  his  thirst 
©f  blood  should  remain  in  those  last  moments,  when  most  men 
are  disposed  to  bury  even  the  injuries  which  they  have  receiv- 
ed in  eternal  oblivion!  His  family  had  th'o  humanity  to  break 
their  vow  to  him;  and  immediately  upon  his  death  set  their 
iTlustrious  prisoners  at  liberty. 

NOTE  5. — Testimony  of  Josephus  to  the  life,  the  sufferings, 
and  the  resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ:  as  also  of  the  unshaken 
attachment  of  his  followers  to  him. 

Jos.  de  Antiq.  Jud.  lorn.  II.  lib.x-uiii^  cap.  4,/z.  798.  Hudsoni 
edition. 

Some  have  affirmed  that  this  passage  is  interpolated:  and  it  is 
always  easy  to  make  affirmations,  and  to  raise  objections.  The 
following  reasons  have  always  satisfied  my  mind  that  it  is  genu- 
ine. 1.  It  accords  well  with  its  connexion,  and  forms  a  link 
with  the  other  parts  of  the  narrative.  2.  It  agrees  in  point  of 
ume  with  the  facts  narrated  along  with  it.  3.  It  is  such  a  tes- 
timony as  might  be  expected  from  such  a  man  as  Josephus: 
neither  enlarged  upon  with  the  partiality  of  friendship  (for  he 
was  a  Jew,  and  not  a  Christian)  nor  disfigured  to  blot  the  fidel- 
ity of  the  historian:  but  related  with  a  conciseness  which  shews 
him  unwilling  to  keep  back  any  part  of  the  fact,  yet  unable  to 
account  for  the  extraordinary  circumstances  attending  it.  4.  It 
would  have  been  a  marvellous  thing  indeed,  if  Josephus,  who 
died  within  93  years  after  Christ,  and  who  professed  to  write 


434 

every  thing  worthy  recording  relative  to  the  Jewish  nation,  both 
in  its  former  state,  and  in  the  degradation  to  which  it  had  sunk  in 
his  days;  should  have  omitted  to  speak  of  an  event,  nearly  con- 
temporary with  himself,  which  was  in  every  one's  mouth,  which 
excited  such  a  ferment  in  his  own  nation;  and  while  a  new  sect, 
springing  from  this  very  event,  attracted  the  notice  and  the 
persecution  of  hoth  Jews  and  Gentiles,  and  boldly,  persevering- 
ly,  successfully,  disseminated  their  tenets  around  him.  5.  Ori- 
gen,  who  flourished  about  200  years  after  Christ,  appeals  to  this 
testimony  when  lie  says,  E'V  >«g  vu>  c,KTtex.*i&)iAlce  T»f  isrfaux»?  a^auoxa^/af 

Q  lawffwo?,  &.C.  o  tTfituTC?,  x.*i  TOtyt  itTrtcfltoV  TU  J»<T8  w?  Xgw7a>,   &.C. 

Orig.  contra  Cels.  tib.i,fi.  35.  Cantab,  edit:  1677. 

NOTE  6— Testimonies  of  Justin  Martyr,  and  of  Tertulian, 
to  the  facts  of  the  life,  the  death,  and  the  resurrection  of  Christ. 

JUSTIN  MARTYR,  speaking  of  the  parting  of  our  Lord's 
vesture,  8cc.  appeals  to  the  acts  of  Pilate  then  extant. 

A*  TUVTA  on  ytyw,  (Tyi1*^;  fAH&ttv  ex.  Ta>v  tfft  Ylwlus  Ht\tt)x  ytvo/msvcev  aucrnv* 

Just.  Martyr.  ApoL  jirima,  fi.  5£,  Thirtbii.  tdit.  1732. 

This  Apology  was  addressed  to  the  emperor  Antoninus  Pius. 

Again,  he  challenges  Crescens  to  a  public  contest  on  the 
merits  of  Christianity  before  the  Roman  senate.  K*<  on  **»$»  x«>*, 

At  K.uvci>via.i  Teev  hoyosv,  trot/mac  x.*J  ip  vucev  xoivavtiv  tun/  e^eermraxv 
£  stv  KHI  TXTO  q>yov  an. 
Just.  Martyr.  Jlfiol.  sccunda,ji.  122,  Thirlbii  edit.  1722. 
This  apology  was  addressed  to  the  Roman  senate.      Epipha- 
nius  also  speaks  of  the  acts  of  Pilate,  and  is  quoted  by  the  learn- 
ed and  accurate  Grotius.     Sec  Grot,  de  Ver.  Rel.   Christ,  lib. 
ii,  sect,  ii,  in  not.  5. 

TKRTULLIAN  thus  speaks  of  the  opinion  which  Tiberias  had 
formed  of  Christ,  and  of  Christianity,  from  the  authentic  records 
which  he  had  received  from  Palestine,  respecting  him: 

Tiberius  ergo,  cnjus  tcmporc  nomen  Christianum  in  secu- 
lum  intruvit,  unnumiaia  sibi  ex  Syria  Palxstina  quac  illic  vcri- 
tatcm  istius  divinitalis  rcvclarant  dctulit  acl  scnatum  cum  prx- 
rogativa  suflVagii  sui.  Senatus,  quia  non  ipsc  probavcrat,  rcs- 
puit:  C:Lsarin  sentcntia  mansit,  comminatus  pcriculum  accus- 
atoribus  Chrisiiui.oruin — Consulitc  commcntarios  vcstros! 

Tn-tull.  Jljiologct.fi.  6.      Lutct.  edit.  1634. 
He  explains  why  tl^.c  \\ill  of  the    emperor    alone   could  not 
prevail  to  ;ig  the  number  of  the  gods,  to  which 


435 

he  was  so  decidedly  inclined  —  Vetus  erat  decretum,  ne  qui 
deus  ab  impcratore  consecraretur,  nisi  a  senaui  probatus. 
There  was  an  ancient  decree  that  no  god  should  be  consecrated 
by  the  cmfieror,  unless  a/tfiroved  by  the  senate,  Tertullian 
would  not  have  dared,  at  that  time,  to  have  .affirmed  these 
things,  had  they  not  been  true:  much  less  would  he  have 
thrown  out  the  challenge,  "Consult  your  records!'' 

NOTE    7.  —  ORIGEN    mentions   Phlegon's   testimony  to   the 
darkness  at  our  Lord's  crucifixion,  as  also  to  the    earthquake. 


vrt  T/ 


TOM 

Ortg.  contra   Cels.fi.  80.  Cantab,  edit.  1677. 

NOTE  8  __  To  what  has  been  translated  from  PLINY  in 
(he  Lecture,  may  be  added  his  testimony  of  the  rapid  spread  of 
Christianity. 

"Many  of  every  age,  of  every  rank,  and  of  both  sexes,  were 
brought  into  danger.  The  contagion  of  this  superstition  had 
spread,  not  into  cities  merely,  but  also  into  villages,  and  into 
fields.  The  temples  were  nearly  desolate.  The  most  sacred 
rites  for  some  time  were  suspended.  And  scarcely  any  one 
was  found  to  purchase  victims  for  them. 

Plin.  Efiist.  lib.  x.  ejiist.  97. 

LECTURE  XIII. 

IT  would  be  a  very  easy  thing  to  produce  evidences  from  ali 
contemporary  historians  of  the  sufferings  of  the  apostles,  of 
their  unshaken  firmness,  and  of  the  undiminished  and  resistless 
attractions  of  Christianity;  but  we  shall  content  ourselves  with 
the  selection  of  a  few. 

Tacitus  relates  the  fact  of  the  persecution  raised  against  the 
Christians  by  Nero,  and  describes  it  as  attended  by  "circum- 
stances of  the  utmost  rigor  and  cruelty." 

Tacit.  Antial.  lib.  xv,  cap.  44. 

Suetonius  bears  the  same  testimony  to  the  sufferings  of  these 
primitive  saipts,  when  he  says,  "The  Christians  were  severely 
punished  —  a  class  of  men  devoted  to  a  novel  and  mischievous 
superstition.'* 

Suet.  jYero  Claud.  Cans.  cap.  xvi. 

Pliny  describes  their  worship,  while  he  condemns  what  he 
palls  their  obstinacy,  and  confesses  that  they  were  harmless  in 


436 

their  deportment.  "They  were  accustomed,"  he  says,  "to  as- 
semble, and  to  sing-  hymns  to  Christ,  as  to  God."  Soliii  essent 
conveuire,  curmenque  Christo  quasi  Deo  dicere- 

Plin.  in  Efiist. 

An  ancient  superstition,  the  worship  of  Jesus  Christ  as  God 
is,  if  it  be  indeed  what  it  is  represented  by  Unitarians — 
idolatry! 

The  ancient  fathers  bear  the  same  testimony  with  these  pro- 
fane historians:  and  they  indeed  shared  the  calamities  which 
they  described.  Justin  Martyr  says — "So  far  from  repenting 
of  your  sins"  (in  crucifying  the  Savior)  "ye  sent  men  of  distin- 
guished talents  through  every  land,  to  represent  Christians  as 
atheists,  and  to  disseminate  in  their  discourses  all  those  evil  re- 
potts  of  us  which  those  have  raised  who  knew  us  not!" 

Ju*t.  Mart.  Dial,  cum  Tryfih.  p.  171.  Thirlb. 

Yet,  amid  all  this  virulence  of  opposition,  the  cause  of  Chris- 
tianity grew.;  and  while  their  enemies  raved,  "To  the  lions  with 
them,"  the  whole  world  beheld  them  rising  on  every  side  as 
willing  to  suft'er,  as  their  adversaries  were  eager  to  afflict.  But 
we  shall  say  nothing  further.  If  any  man  desires  a  confirma- 
tion of  the  preceding  Lecture,  he  has  only  to  read  Justin  Mar- 
tyr, and  Tertullian. 

LECTURE  XIV. 

WE  have  described  the  sun  as  a  body  of  fire.  Such  it  has 
long  been  considered:  but  modern  astronomy  has  shaken  this 
opinion  of  antiquity.  The  ingenious  Dr.  Herchel  supposes  "thai 
it  is  an  opaque  body  surrounded  by  an  atmosphere  of  aphosphoric 
nature,  composed  of  various  transparent  and  elastic  fluids,  by 
the  decomposition  of  which  light  is  produced,  and  lucid  appear- 
ances formed  of  different  degrees  and  intensity."  And  he  con- 
cludes that  it  is  even  probably  an  inhabited  world.  We  venture 
not  to  hazard  an  opinion  upon  this  novel  hypothesis:  the  name  of 
Dr.  Hcrsch*  1  ranks  high  in  the  department  of  literature  which 
nc  has  chosen.  But  may  I  be  permitted  to  recommend  to  the  at- 
tention of  young  persons,  studying  the  principles  of  astronomy, 
.;ory'b  Lessons  Astronomical  and  Philosophical." — from 
which  the  above  statement  is  extracted?  They  are  familiar  and 
instructive,  atmibing  and  scientific,  at  one  and  the  same  time. 


THE    END. 


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